"■  VI       mem 

mm 


I 


BRITISH    SPY. 


LETTER    I. 

RICHMOND,  SEPT.  1. 


Y< 


OU  complain  my  dear  S*******f 
that  although  I  have  been  resident  in  Rich- 
mond upwards  of  six  months,  you  have  heard 
nothing  of  me  since  my  arrival.  The  truth  is, 
that  I  have  suspended  writing  until  a  more 
intimate  acquaintance  with  the  people  and 
their  country,  should  furnish  me  with  mate- 
rials for  a  correspondence.  Having  now  col- 
lected those  materials,  the  apology  ceases, 
and  the  correspondence  begins.  But  first  a 
word  of  myself. 

I  still  continue  to  wear  the  mask,  and  most 
willingly  exchange  the  attentions  which 
would  be  paid  to  my  rank,  for  the  superior 
and  exquisite  pleasure  of  inspecting  this 
country  and  this  people,  without  attracting 
to  myself  a  single  eye  of  curiosity,  or  awak- 
ening a  shade  of  suspicion.  Under  my  as- 
Isumed  name,  I  gain  an  admittance,  close  e- 
nough  to  trace  at  leisure,  every  line  of  the 
(American  character  ;  while  the  plainness  or 

B 


6  BRITISH    SPY. 

rather  humility  of  my  appearance,  my  maru 
ners  and  conversation,  puts  no  one  on  his 
guard,  but  enables  me  to  take  a  portrait  of 
nature,  as  it  were,  asleep  and  naked.  Be- 
sides, there  is  something  of  innocent  roguery 
in  the  masquerade  which  I  am  playing,  that 
suits  very  well  with  the  sportiveness  of  my 
temper.  To  sit  and  decoy  the  human  heart 
from  behind  all  its  disguises — to  watch  the 
capricious  evolutions  of  unrestrained  nature, 
frisking,  curvetting  and  gambolling  at  her 
ease,  with  the  curtain  of  ceremony  drawn  up 
to  the  very  sky — O  !  it  is  delightful  ! 

You  are  perhaps  surprised  at  my  speaking 
of  the   attentions  which   would  be    paid,  in 
this  country,  to  my  rank.     You  will  suppose 
then  I  have  forgotten  where  I  am  ;  no   such 
thing.     I  remember  well  enough  that  I  am  in 
Virginia  :  that  state  which,   of  all  the  rest, 
plumes  herself  most  highly  on  the  democrat- 
ick  spirit  of  her  principles. — Her  political 
principles  are, indeed,  democratick  enough  in 
d\\  conscience.  Rights  and  privileges,  as  reg- 
ulated by  the  constitution  of  the  state,  belong 
in  an  equal  degree  to  all   the   citizens  ;  and 
Peter  Pindar's  remark  is  perfectly  true  of  the 
people  of  this  country,   that   "  every  black- 
guard scoundrel  is   a  king."     Nevertheless, 
there  exists  in   Virginia  a  species   of  local 
rank,  from  which  no  country  can,  I  presume, 
be  entirely  free.     I  mean  that  kind   of  rank 
which  arises  from  the  different  degrees  of 


BRITISH  SPY.  T 

wealth  and  of  intellectual  refinement. — These 
must  introduce  a  style  of  living  and  conver- 
sation, the  former  of  which  a  poor  man  can- 
not attain,  while  an  ignorant  one  would  be 
incapable  of  enjoying  the  latter.  It  seems  to 
me,  that  from  these  causes,  wherever  they 
may  exist,  circles  of  society,  strongly  dis- 
criminated, must  inevitably  result.  And  one 
of  these  causes  exists  in  full  force  in  Virgin- 
ia ,  for,  however,  they  may  vaunt  of  equal 
liberty  in  church  and  state,  they  have  but 
little  to  boast  on  the  subject  of  equal  proper- 
ty. Indeed  there  is  no  country,  I  believe, 
where  property  is  more  unequally  distribut- 
ed than  in  Virginia. — This  inequality  struck 
me  with  peculiar  force,  in  riding  through  the 
lower  countries  on  the  Potowmack.  Here 
and  there  a  stately  aristocratick  palace,  with 
all  its  appurtenances,  strikes  the  view  . 
While  all  around  for  many  miles,  no  other 
buildings  are  to  be  seen,  but  the  little  smoky 
huts  and  log  cabins  of  poor,  laborious,  ignor- 
ant tenants.  And  what  is  very  ridiculous, 
these  tenants,  while  they  approach  the  great 
house,  cap  in  hand,  with  all  the  fearful  trem- 
bling submission  of  the  lowrest,  feudal  vas- 
sals, boast,  in  their  court  house  yards,  with 
obstreperous  exultation,  they  live  in  a  land 
of  freemen,  aland  of  equal  liberty  and  equal 
rights.  Whether  this  debasing  sense  of  in- 
feriority which  I  have  mentioned,  is  but  a 
remnant  of  the  colonial  character,  or  u-heth- 


8  BRITISH  SPY. 

er  it  be  that  it  is  natural  for  poverty  and  im- 
potence to  look  up  with  veneration  to  wealth 
and  property  and  rank,  I  cannot  decide.  For 
my  own  part,  however,  I  have  ascribed  it  to 
the  latter  cause  ;  and  I  have  been  in  a  great 
degree  confirmed  in  the  opinion,  by  observ- 
ing the  attentions  which  were  paid,  by  the 

most  genteel    people  here,   to the 

son  of  Lord .  You  know  the  circum- 
stances in  which  his  lordship  left  Virginia  ; 
that  so  far  from  being  popular,  he  carried 
with  him  the  deepest  execrations  of  these 
people.  Even  now  his  name  is  seldom  men- 
tioned here,  but  in  connexion  with  terms 
of  abhorrence  or  contempt.      Aware  of  this, 

and  believing  it  impossible  that was 

indebted  to  his  father  for  all  the  parade  of 
respect  which  was  shewn  to  him,  I  sought  in 
his  own  personal  accomplishments  a  solution 
of  the  phenomenon.  But  I  sought  in  vain. 
Without  one  solitary  ray  of  native  genius, 
without  one  adventitious  beam  of  science, 
without  any  of  those  traits  of  soft  benevolence 
which  are  so  universally  captivating,  I  found 
his  mind  dark  and  benighted,  his  manners 
bold,  forward  and  assuming,  and  his  whole 
character  evidently  inflated  with  the  consider- 
ation that  he  was  the  son  of  a  lord.  His  de- 
portment was  so  evidently  dictated  by  this 
consideration,  and  he  regarded  the  Virginians 
so  palpably  in  the  humiliating  light  of  infe- 
rior plebeians,that  I  have  often  wondered  how 


BRITISH  SPY.  9 

such  a  man, and  the  son  too  of  so  unpopular  a 
father,  escaped  from  this  country  without 
personal  injury,  or  at  least  personal  insult. 
I  am  now  persuaded  that  this  impunity  and 
the  great  respect  which  was  paid  to  him  re- 
sulted solely  from  his  noble  descent,  and  was 
nothing  more  than  the  tribute  which  man 
pays  either  to  imaginary  or  real  superiority. 
On  this  occasion,  I  stated  my  surprise  to  a 
young  Virginian,  who  happened  to  be  one 
of  the  democratick  party.  He,  however,  did 
not  choose  to  admit  the  statement  ;  but  as- 
serted that  whatever  respect  had  been  shewn 
to proceeded  solely  from  the  feder- 
alists :  and  that  it  was  an  unguarded  ebullition 
of  their  private  attachment  to  monarchy  and 
its  appendages.  I  then  stated  the  subject  to 
a  very  sensible  gentleman,  whom  I  knew  to 
belong  to  the  federal  phalanx.  Not  willing 
to  degrade  his  party,  by  admitting  that  they 
would  prostrate  themselves  before  the  empty 
shadoAV  of  nobility,  he  alledged  that  nothing 

had  been  manifested  towards  young 

beyond  the  hospitality  which  was  due  to  a 
genteel  stranger  ;  and  that  if  there  had  been 
any  thing  of  parade  on  his  account,  it  was  at- 
tributable only  to  the  ladies,  who  had  mere- 
ly exercised  their  wonted  privilege  of  coquet- 
ing  it  with  a  fine  young  fellow.  But  not- 
withstanding all  this,  it  was  easy  to  discern, 
in  the  look,  the  voice  and  whole  manner  with 
jvhich  gentlemen  as  well  as  ladies  of  both 


10  BRITISH  SPY. 

parties  saluted  and  accosted  young-- , 

a  sacred  spirit  of  respectful  diffidence,  a  spe- 
cies of  silent  reverential  abasement  which 
could  not  have  been  excited  by  his  personal 
qualities,  and  mnst  have  been  homage  to  his 
rank.  Judge  then  whether  I  have  not  just 
reason  to  apprehend,  that  on  the  annuncia- 
tion of  my  real  name,  the  curtain  of  ceremo- 
ny would  fall,  and  nature  would  cease  to 
play  her  pranks  before  me. 

Richmond  is  built,  as  you  will  remember 
on  the  north  side  of  James  River,  and  at  the 
head  of  the  tide  water.  There  is  a  manu- 
script in  this  state,  which  relates  a  curious 
anecdote  concerning  the  origin  of  this  town. 
The  land  hereabouts  was  owned  by  Col.  Wil- 
liam Bird,  This  gentleman,  with  the  former 
proprietor  of  the  town  at  the  head  of  tide 
water  on  Appomatiox  river,  was  appointed, 
it  seems,  to  run  the  line  between  Virginia  and 
North  Carolina.  The  operation  was  a  most 
tremendous  one  ;  for,  in  the  execution  of  it, 
they  had  to  penetrate  and  pass  quite  through 
the  great  dismal  swamp..  It  would  be  almost 
impossible  to  give  you  a  just  conception  of 
the  horrors  of  this  enterprise.  Imagine  to  your- 
self an  immense  morass,  thirty  or  forty  miles 
in  diameter  :  its  soil  a  black  deep  mire,  cov- 
ered with  a  stupendous  forest  of  Juniper  and 
Cypress  trees,  whose  luxuriant  branches,  in- 
terwoven throughout,  intercept  the  beams  of 
the  sun  and  teach  day  to  counterfeit  the 


BRITISH  SPY.  12 

night.  The  forest,  which,  until  that  time, 
perhaps  the  human  foot  had  never  violated, 
had  become  the  secure  retreat  of  ten  thous- 
and beasts  of  prey.  The  adventurers,  there- 
fore, beside  the  almost  endless  labour  of  fall- 
ing trees,  in  a  proper  direction  to  form  a 
footway  throughout,  moved,  amid  perpetual 
terrors,  and  each  night  had  to  sleep  en  mil- 
itaire  upon  their  arms,  surrounded  with  the 
deafening,  soul  chilling  yell  of  those  hun- 
ger smitten  lords  of  the  desert.  It  wras  one 
night  as  they  lay  \in  the  midst  of  scenes 
like  those,  that  Hope,  that  never  failing 
friend  of  man,  paid  them  a  consoling  visit, 
and  sketched  in  brilliant  prospect  the  plans  of 
Richmond  and  Petersburg. 

Richmond  occupies  a  very  picturesque  and 
most  beautiful  situation.  I  have  never  met 
with  such  an  assemblage  of  striking  and  in- 
teresting objects.  The  town,  dispersed  over 
hills  of  various  shades — the  river,  descending 
from  wrest  to  east,  and  obstructed  by  a  mul- 
titude of  small  islands,  clumps  of  trees  and 
myriads  of  rocks,  among  which  it  rumbles, 
foams  and  roars,  consisting  of  what  are  call- 
ed the  falls — the  same  river  at  the  lower  end 
of  the  town,  bending  at  right  angles  to  the 
south,  and  winding  reluctantly  off  for  many 
miles  in  that  direction,its  polished  surface 
caught  here  and  thereby  the  eye,  but  more  ge- 
nerally covered  from  the  view  by  trees,among 
which  the  white  sails  of  approaching  and  de- 


11  BRITISH  SPY. 

parting  vessels  exhibit  a  curious  and  interest- 
ing appearance  : — then  again  on  the  opposite 
side,  the  little  town  of  Manchester,  built  on 
a  hill  which,  sloping  gently  to  the  river,  o- 
pens  the  whole  town  to  the  view,  interspers- 
ed as  it  is  with  vigorous  and  flourishing  pop- 
lars, and  surrounded  to  a  great  distance  by 
green  plains  and  stately  woods — all  these  ob- 
jects falling  at  once  under  the  eye,  constitute 
by  far  the  most  finely  varied  and  most  ani- 
mated landscape  that  I  have  ever  seen.  A 
mountain,  like  the  blue  ridge,  in  the  western 
horizon,  and  the  rich  tint  with  which  the 
hand  of  a  Pennsylvania  farmer  would  paint 
the  adjacent  fields,  would  make  the  most  en- 
chanting spot  that  ever  Damascus  is  describ- 
ed to  be.  I  will  endeavour  to  procure  for 
you  a  perspective  view  of  Richmond  with 
the  embellishment  of  fancy  which  I  have  just 
mentioned,  and  you  will  do  me  the  honour 
to  give  it  a  place  in  your  pavilion. 

Adieu  for  the  present,  my  dear  S******* 
— May  the  perpetual  smiles  of  Heaven  be 
yours. 


LETTER  II, 


BRITISH    SPY. 


LETTER  II. 


RICHMOND,   SEPTEMBER,  7. 

ALMOST  every  clay,  my  clear  &*******,  ■ 
some  new  evidence  presents  itself  in  support 
of  the  Abbe  Raynal's  opinion,  that  this  con- 
tinent was  once  covered  by  the  ocean,  from 
which  it  has  gradually  emerged.  But  that 
this  emersion  is,  eveu  comparatively  speak- 
ing, of  recent  date,  cannot  be  admitted  ;  un- 
less the  comparison  be  made  with  the  crea- 
tion of  the  earth  ;  and  even  then,  in  order  to 
justify  the  remark,  the  a?ra  of  the  creation 
must,  I  fear,  be  fixed  much  farther  back, 
than  the  period  which  has  been  inferred  from 
the  Mosaic  account. 

The  following  facts  are  authenticated  be- 
yond any  kind  of  doubt.  During  the  last 
spring,  a  gentleman  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
Williamsburg,  about  sixty  miles  below  this 
place,  in  digging  a  ditch  on  his  farm,  discov- 
ered, about  four  or  five  feet  below  the  sur- 
face of  the  earth,  a  considerable  portion  of 
the  skeleton  of  a  Whale.  Several  fragments 
of  the  ribs  and  other  parts  of  the  system  were 
e 


U  BRITISH  SPY. 

found  ;  and  all  the  vertebrae  regularly  arrang- 
ed and  very  little  impaired  as  to  their  figure. 
The  spot  on  which  this  skeleton  was  found 
lies  about  two  miles  from  the  nearest  shore 
of  James  River,  and  fifty  or  sixty  from  the 
Atlantick  Ocean.  The  whole  phenomenon 
bore  the  clearest  evidence  that  the  animal 
had  perished  in  its  native  element ;  and  as 
the  ocean  is  the  only  resort  for  the  Whale, 
it  follows  that  the  ocean  must  once  have  cov- 
ered the  country  at  least  as  high  up  at  Wil- 
liamsburg. 

Again,  in  digging  several  wells  lately  in 
this  town,  the  teeth  of  Sharks  were  found 
from  sixty  to  ninety  or  an  hundred  feet  be- 
low  the  surface  of  the  earth.  The  probabil- 
ity is  that  these  teeth  were  deposited  by  the 
Shark  itself;  and  as  this  fish  is  never  kndwn 
to  infest  very  shallow  waters,  the  conclusion 
is  clear ,that  this  whole  country  has  been  bur- 
ied under  several  fathoms  of  water.  At  all 
events,  these  teeth  must  be  considered  as  as- 
certaining what  was  once  the  surface  of  the 
earth  here  ;  which  surface  is  very  little  high- 
er than  that  of  James  River.  Now  if  it  be 
considered  that  there  has  been  no  percepti- 
ble difference  wrought  in  the  figure  or  eleva- 
tion of  the  coast,  nor  consequently,  in  the 
precipitation  of  the  interior  streams  since  the 
earliest  record  discovery  of  Virginia,  which 
was  two  hundred  years  ago,  it  will  follow  that 
James  River  must  for  manv  hundreds,  perhaps 


BRITISH  SPY.  ti 

thousands  of  years,  have  been  running,  at  least 
here,  with  a  very  rapid,  headlong  current ; 
the  friction  whereof  must  certainly  have  ren- 
dered the  channel  much  deeper  than  it  was  at 
the  time  of  the  deposition  of  these  teeth.  The 
result  is  clear  that  the  surface  of  the  stream 
which,  even  now,  after  this  friction  and  con- 
sequent depression,  is  so  nearly  on  a  level 
with  the  site  of  the  Shark's  teeth,  must,  o- 
riginally,  have  been  much  higher.  I  take  this 
to  be  an  irrefragable  proof  that  the  land  here, 
was  then,  inundated  ;  and  as  there  is  no 
ground  between  this  and  the  Atlantick, higher 
than  that  on  which  Richmond  is  built,  it 
seems  to  me  indisputably  certain,  that  the 
whole  of  this  beautiful  country  was  once  cov- 
ered with  a  dreary  waste  of  water. 

To  what  curious  and  interesting  reflections 
does  this  subject  lead  us !  Over  this  hill  on 
which  I  am  now  sitting  and  writing  at  my 
ease,  and  from  which  I  look,  with  delight  on 
the  landscape  that  smiles  around  me — over 
this  hill  and  over  this  landscape,  the  billows 
of  the  ocean  have  'rolled  in  wild  and  dread- 
ful fury,  while  the  leviathan,  the  whale,  and 
all  the  monsters  of  the  deep,  have  disported 
themselves  amid  the  fearful  tempest. 

Where  was  then  the  shore  of  the  ocean  ? — 
From  this  place,  for  eighty  miles  to  the  west- 
ward, the  ascent  of  the  countrv  is  very  grad- 
ual ;  and  even  up  the  Blue  Ridge,  'marine 
shells  and  other  phenomena  are  found,  which 


16  BRITISH  SPY. 

demonstrate  that  that  country  too,  has  been 
visited  by  the  ocean. — How  then  has  it  e- 
merged  ?  Has  it  been  by  a  sudden  convulsion  ? 
Certainly  not. — No  observing  man,  who  has 
ever  travelled  from  the  Blue  Ridge  to  the  At- 
lantick  can  doubt  this  emersion  has  been  ef- 
fected by  very  slow  gradations.  For  as  you 
advance  to  the  east,  the  proofs  of  the  form- 
er submersion  of  the  country  thicken  upon 
you.  On  the  shores  of  York  river,  the  bones 
of  the  Whale  abound  ;  and  I  have  been  not 
a  little  amused  in  walking  on  the  sand  beach 
of  that  river,  during  the  recess  of  the  tide, 
and  looking  up  at  the  high  cliff  or  bank  above 
me,  to  observe  strata  of  sea  shells  not  yet  cal- 
cined, like  those  which  lay  on  the  beach  un- 
der my  feet  ;  interspersed  with  strata  of  earth 
(the  joint  result  no  doubt  of  sand  and  putrid 
vegetable)  exhibiting  at  once  a  sample  of  the 
manner  in  which  the  adjacent  soil  had  been 
formed,  and  proof  of  the  comparatively  re- 
cent desertion  of  the  waters. 

Upon  the  whole,  every  thing  here  tends  to 
confirm  the  ingenious  theory  of  Mr.  Buffon  ; 
that  the  eastern  coasts  of  continents  are  en- 
larged by  the  perpetual  revolution  of  the 
earth  from  West  to  East,  which  has  the  ob- 
vious tendency  to  conglomerate  the  loose 
sands  of  the  sea  on  the  eastern  coast;  while 
the  tides  of  the  ocean,  drawn  from  east  to 
west,  against  the  revolving  earth,  contribute 
to  aid  the  process,  and  hasten  the  alluvion. 


BRITISH  SPY.  17 

But  admitting  the  Abbe  RaynaPs  idea  that 
America  is  a  far  younger  country  than  either 
of  the  other  continents,  or  in  other  words, 
that  America  has  emerged  long  since  their 
formation,  how  did  it  happen  that  the  mate- 
rials which  compose  this  continent  were  not 
accumulated  on  the  eastern  coast  of  Asia  ? — 
Was  it  that  the  present  mountains  of  Ameri- 
ca, then  protuberances  on  the  bed  of  the  o- 
cean,  intercepted  a  part  of  the  passing  sands 
which  would  otherwise  have  been  washed  on 
the  Asiatic  shore,  and  thus  became  the  rudi- 
ments of  this  vast  continent  ?  If  so,  America 
is  under  much  greater  obligations  to  her  bar- 
ren mountains,  than  she  has  hitherto  suppos- 
ed. 

But  while  Mr.  Buffon's  theory  accounts 
very  handsomely  for  the  enlargement  of  the 
eastern  coast,  it  offers  no  kind  of  reason  for 
any  extension  of  the  western  ;  on  the  contra- 
ry the  very  causes  assigned  to  supply  the  ad- 
dition to  the  eastern,  seem  at  first  view,  to 
threaten  a  diminution  of  the  western  coast. 
Accordingly,  Mr.  Buffon,  Ave  see,  has  adopt- 
ed also  the  latter  idea  ;  and  in  the  constant 
alluvion  from  the  western  coast  of  one  con- 
tinent, has  found  a  perennial  source  of  ma- 
terials for  the  eastern  coast  of  that  which  lies 
behind  it.  This  last  idea,  however,  by  no 
means  quadrates  with  the  hypothesis  that  the 
mountains  of  America  formed  the  original 
stamina  of  the  continent ;  for  on  the   latter 


15  BRITISH  SPY. 

supposition,  the  mountains  themselves  would 
constitute  the  western  coast  ;  since  Mr.  Buf- 
fon's  theory  precludes  the  idea  of  any  acces- 
sion in  that  quarter.  But  the  mountains  do 
not  constitute  the  western  coast.  On  the 
contrary  there  is  a  wider  extent  of  country 
between  the  great  mountains  in  North  Amer- 
ica, and  the  Pacific  or  northern  oceans,  than 
there  is  between  the  same  mountains  and  the 
Atlantick  ocean.  Mr.  Buffon's  theory  there- 
fore, however  rational  as  to  the  eastern,  be- 
comes defective,  as  he  presses  it,  in  relation 
to  the  western  coast ;  unless  to  accommodate 
the  theory,  we  suppose  the  total  abrasion  ofi 
some  great  mountain  which  originally  con- 
stituted the  western  limit,  and  which  was  it- 
self, the  embryon  of  this  continent.  But  for 
many  reasons  and  particularly  the  present 
contiguity  to  Asia,  at  one  part,  where  such  a 
mountain  according  to  the  hypothesis,  must 
have  run,  the  idea  of  any  such  limit  will  be 
thought  rather  too  extravagant  for  adoption. 
The  fact  is,  that  Mr.  Buffon  has  considered 
his  theory  rather  in  its  operation  on  a  con- 
tinent already  established,  than  on  the  birth 
or  primitive  emersion  of  a  continent  from  the 
ocean. 

As  to  the  western  part  of  this  continent,  I 
mean  that  which  lies  beyond  the  Allegany 
mountains,  if  it  was  not  originally  gained 
from  the  ocean,  it  has  received  an  accumula- 
tion of  earth  by   no   means  less  wonderful. 


BRITISH  SPY,  19 

Far  beyond  the  Ohio,  in  piercing  the  earth 
for  water,  the  stumps  of  trees,  bearing  the 
most  evident  impressions  of  the  axe,  and  on 
one  of  them  the  rust  of  consumed  iron,  batse 
been  discovered  between  ninety  and  an  hund- 
red feet  below  the  present  surface  of  the 
earth.  This  is  a  proof,  by  the  bye,  not  only 
that  this  immense  depth  of  soil  has  been  ac- 
cumulated in  that  quarter  ;  but  that,  thai- 
new  country j  as  the  inhabitants  of  the  Atlan- 
tick  States  call  it,  is,  indeed  a  very  ancient 
one,  and  that  North  America  has  undergone 
more  revolutions  in  point  of  civilization  than 
have  heretofore  been  thought  of,  either  by 
the  European  or  American  Philosophers. 
That  part  of  this  continent,  which  borders 
on  the  western  ocean  being  almost  entirely 
unknown,  it  is  impossible  to  say  whether  it 
exhibits  the  same  evidence  of  emersion  which 
is  found  here.  M'Kenzie,  however,  the  on- 
ly traveller  who  has  penetrated  through  this 
wild  forest,  records  a  curious  tradition  a- 
mong  some  of  the  western  tribes  of  Indians  : 
to  wit,  that  the  world  was  once  covered  with 
water.  The  tradition  is  embellished  as  usu- 
al, with  a  number  of  very  highly  poetical  fic- 
tions. The  fact, which  I  suppose  to  be  couch- 
ed under  it,  is,  the  ancient  submersion  of 
that  part  of  the  continent ;  which  certainly 
looks  much  more  like  a  world,  than  the  petty 
territory  that  was  inundated  by  Deucalion's 
flood.     If  I  remember  aright*  for  I   cannot 


20  BRITISH  &PY. 

immediately  refer  to  the  book,  Stith  in  his 
history  of  Virginia,  has  recorded  similar  tra- 
ditions among  the  Atlantick  tribes  of  Indians. 
I  have  no  doubt  that  if  McKenzie  had  been 
as  well  qualified  for  scientifick  research,  as  he 
was  undoubtedly  honest,  firm  and  persever- 
ing, it  would  have  been  in  his  power  to  have 
thrown  great  lights  on  this  subject,  as  it  re- 
lates to  the  western  country. 

For  my  own  part, While  I  believe  the  pres- 
ent mountains  of  America  to  have  constituted 
the  original  stamina  of  the  continent,  I  be- 
lieve, at  the  same  time,  the  western  as  well  as 
the  eastern  country  to  be  the  effect  of  alluv- 
ion ;  produced  too  by  the  same  causes  ;  the 
rotation  of  the  earth,  and  the  planetary  at- 
traction of  the  ocean.  The  conception  of 
this  will  be  easy  and  simple,  if,  instead  of 
confounding  the  mind,  by  a  wide  view  of  the 
whole  continent  as  it  now  stands,  we  carry 
back  our  imagination  to  the  time  of  its  birth, 
and  suppose  some  one  of  the  highest  pinna- 
cles of  the  Blue  Ridge  to  have  just  emerged 
above  the  surface  of  the  sea.  Now  whether 
the  rolling  of  the  earth  to  the  east  give  to 
the  ocean,  which  floats  looselv  upon  its  bo- 
som, an  actual  counter  current,  to  the  west, 
w^hich  is,  occasionally,  further  accelerated  by 
the  motion  of  the  tides  in  that  direction,  or 
whether  this  be  not  the  case,  still  to  our  new- 
ly emerged  pinnacle,  which  is  whirled  by  the 
earth's   motion,  through  the  waters  of   the 


BRITISH  SPY.  21 

deep,  the  consequences  will  be  the  same  as 
if  there  were  this  actual  and  strong  current. 
For  while  the  waters  will  be  continually  ac- 
cumulated on  the  eastern  coast  of  this  pin- 
nacle, it  is  obvious  that  on  the  western  coast 
(protected  as  it  would  be,  from  the  current, 
by  the  newly  riven  earth)  the  waters  will  al- 
ways be  comparatively  low  and  calm.  The 
result  is  clear.  The  sands,  borne  along  by 
the  ocean's  current  over  the  northern  and 
southern  extremities  of  this  pinnacle,  will  al- 
ways have  a  tendency  to  settle  in  the  calm 
behind  it  ;  and  thus,  "by  perpetual  accumu- 
lations, from  a  western  coast,  more  rapidly 
perhaps  than  an  eastern  one  ;  as  we  may  see 
in  miniature  by  the  capes  and  shallows,  col- 
lected by  the  still  water,  on  each  side,  at  the 
mouths  of  creeks,  or  below  rocks,  in  the  rap- 
ids of  a  river. 

After  this  new  born  point  of  earth  had 
gained  some  degree  of  elevation,  it  is  proba- 
ble that  successive  coats  of  vegetation,  ac- 
cording to  Dr.  Darwin's  idea,  springing  up, 
then  falling  and  dying  on  the  earth,  paid  an 
annual  tribute  to  the  infant  continent,  while 
such  rain  as  fell  upon  it,  bore  down  a 
part  of  its  substance  and  assisted  perpetually 
in  the  enlargement  of  its  area. 

It  is  curious  that  the  arrangement  of  the 
mountains  both  in  North  and  South  America, 
as  well  as  the  shape  of  the  two  continents, 
combines  to  strengthen  the  present  theory. 


■32  3RITISH  SPY. 

For  the  mountains,  as  you  will  perceive  on 
inspecting  your  maps,  run,  in  chains  from 
north  to  south  ;  thus  opposing  the  widest  pos- 
sible barrier  to  the  sands,  as  they  roll  from 
east  to  west.  The  shape  of  the  continents  is 
just  that  which  would  naturally  be  expected 
from  such  an  origin  ;  that  is,  they  lie  along, 
collaterally,  with  the  mountains.  As  far 
north  as  the  country  is  well  known,  these 
ranges  of  mountains  are  observed  ;  and  it  is 
remarkable  that  as  soon  as  the  Cordilleras 
terminate  in  the  south,  the  continent  of  South 
America  ends  ;  where  they  terminate  in  the 
north,  the  continent  dwindles  to  a  narrow 
isthmus. 

Assuming  this  theory  as  correct,  it  is  amus- 
ing to  observe  the  conclusions  to  which  it 
will  lead  us. 

As  the  country  is  supposed  to  have  been 
formed  by  gradual  accumulations,  and  as 
these  accumulations  were  most  probably  e- 
qual  or  nearly  so  in  every  part,  it  follows 
that,  broken  as  this  country  is,  in  hills  and 
dales,  it  has  assumed  no  new  appearance  by 
its  emersion ;  but  that  the  figure  of  the 
earth's  surface  is  the  same  throughout,  as 
well  where  it  is  now  covered  by  the  waters 
of  the  ocean,  as  where  it  has  been  already 
denudated.  So  that  Mr.  Boyle's  mountains 
in  the  sea,  cease  to  have  any  thing  wonder- 
fid  in  them. 


BRITISH  SPY.  23 

Connected  with  this,  it  is  not  an  improba- 
ble conclusion,  that  new  continents,  and  isl- 
ands are  now  forming  on  the  bed  of  the  o- 
cean.  Perhaps  at  some  future  day,  land, 
may  emerge  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  An- 
tarctick circle,  which  by  progressive  accumu- 
lations and  a  consequent  increase  of  weight 
may  keep  a  juster  balance  between  the  poles, 
and  produce  a  material  difference  in  our  as- 
tronomical relations.  The  navigators  of  that 
day  will  be  as  successful  in  their  discoveries 
in  the  south  seas,  as  Columbus  was  hereto- 
fore in  the  northern.  For  there  can  be  lit- 
tle doubt  that  there  has  been  a  time  when 
Columbus,  if  lie  had  lived,  would  have  found 
his  reasonings,  on  the  balance  of  the  earth, 
fallacious  ;  and  would  have  sought  these  seas 
for  a  continent,  as  much  in  vain,  as  Drake, 
Anson,  Cooke  and  others,  encouraged  per- 
haps by  similar  reasoning,  have  since  sought 
the  ocean  in  the  south. 

If  Mr.  BufFon's  notion  be  correct,  that  the 
eastern  coast  of  one  continent  is  perpetually 
feeding  on  the  western  coast  of  that  which 
lies  before  it,  the  conclusion  is  inevitable, 
that  the  present  materials  of  Europe  and  Af- 
rica and  Asia  in  succession,  will,  at  some  fut- 
ure day,  compose  the  continents  of  North 
and  South  America,  while  the  latter  thrown 
on  the  Asiatic  shore,  will  again  make  a  part, 
and  in  time,  the  whole  of  that  continent  to 
which,  by  some  philosophers,  they  are  sup- 


24  BRITISH  SPY. 

posed  to  have  been  originally  attached.  It 
is  equally  clear  that,  by  this  means,  the  con- 
tinents will  not  only  exchange  their  materials, 
but  their  position  ;  so  that  in  process  of  time, 
they  must  respectively  make  a  tour  around 
the  globe,  maintaining,  still,  the  same  cere- 
monious distance  from  each  other,  which 
they  now  hold. 

According  to  my  theory,  which  supposes 
an  alluvion  on  the  western  as  well  as  the  east- 
ern coasts,  the  continents  and  islands  of  the 
earth,  will  be  caused,  reciprocally  to  approx- 
imate, and  (if  materials  enough  can  be  found 
in  the  bed  of  the  ocean  or  generated  by  any 
operation  of  nature)  ultimately  to  unite. 
Our  island  of  Great  Britain,  therefore,  at 
some  future  day,  and  in  proper  person,  will 
probably  invade  the  territory  of  France.  In 
the  course  of  this  process  of  alluvion  as  it  re- 
lates to  this  country,  the  refluent  waters  of 
the  Atlantick  will  be  forced  to  recede  from 
Hampton  Roads  and  the  Chesapeake,  the 
beds  whereof  will  become  fertile  vallies,  or, 
as  they  are  called  here,  river  bottoms  ;  while 
the  lands  in  the  lower  district  of  the  state, 
which  are  now  only  a  very  few  feet  above 
the  surface  of  the  sea,  will  rise  into  majestic 
eminences,  and  the  present  sickly  site  of 
Norfolk  be  converted  into  a  high  and  salu- 
brious mountain.  I  apprehend,  however, 
that  the  present  inhabitants  of  Norfolk  would 
be  extremely  unwilling  to  have  such  an  ef- 


BRITISH  SPY.  2* 

feet  wrought  in  their  day  ;  since  there  can  be 
little  doubt  that  they  prefer  their  present 
commercial  situation,  incumbered  as  it  is  by 
the  annual  visits  of  the  yellow  fever,  to  the 
elevation  and  health  of  the  Blue  Ridge. 

In  the  course  of  the  process,  too,  of  which 
I  have  been  speaking,  if  the  theory  be  cor- 
rect, the  gulf  of  Mexico  will  be  eventually  fil- 
led up,  and  the  West  India  Islands  consolidat- 
ed Math  the  American  continent. 

These  consequences,  visionary  as  they  may 
now  appear,  are  not  only  probable,  but  if 
the  alluvion  which  is  demonstrated  to  have 
taken  place  already,  should  continue,  they 
are  inevitable.  There  is  very  little  proba- 
bility that  the  isthmus  of  Darien,  which  con- 
nects the  continents,  is  coeval  with  the  Blue 
Ridge  or  the  Cordilleras  ;  and  it  requires  only 
a  continuation  of  the  causes  which  produced 
the  isthmus,  to  effect  the  reception  of  the 
gulph  and  the  consolidation  of  the  islands 
with  the  continent. 

But  when  ?  I  am  possessed  of  no  data 
whereby  the  calculations  can  be  made. — 
The  depth  at  which  Herculaneum  and  Pom- 
peia  were  found  to  be  buried  in  the  course 
of  1 600  years  affords  us  no  light  on  this  in- 
quiry ;  because  their  burial  was  effected  not 
by  the  slow  alluvion  and  accumulation  of 
time,  but  by  the  sudden  eruptions  of  Vesu- 
vius. As  little  are  we  aided  by  the  repletion 
of  the  earth  around  the  Tarpeian  rock  in 


2$  BRITISH  SPY. 

Rome  ;  since  that  repletion  was  most  prob- 
ably effected  in  a  very  great  degree  by  the 
materials  of  fallen  buildings.  And  besides, 
the  original  height  of  the  rock  is  not  ascer- 
tained with  any  kind  of  precision,  historians 
having,  I  believe,  merely  informed  us  that  it 
was  sufficiently  elevated  to  kill  the  criminals 
who  were  thrown  from  its  summit. 

But  a  truce  with  philosophy.  Who  could 
have  believed  that  the  skeleton  of  an  nnwield- 
y  Whale,  and  a  few  mouldering  teeth  of  a 
Shark  would  have  led  me  such  a  dance  ! — 
Adieu,  my  dear  S*******i  for  the  present. 
May  the  light  of  Heaven  continue  to  shine 
around  vou  ! 


*#**-*-*****«#* 


LETTER    IIL 


BRITISH    SPY. 


LETTER  III. 


BICHMOND,  SEPTEMBER,   15. 

YOU  inquire  into  the  state  of  your  fa- 
vourite art  in  Virginia.  Eloquence  my  dear 
8*******^  has  few  successful  votaries  here. 
I  mean  eloquence  of  the  highest  order  ;  such 
as  that,  to  which  not  only  the  bosom  of  your 
friend,  but  the  feelings  of  the  whole  British 
nation,  bore  evidence,  in  listening  to  the 
charge  of  the  Begums  in  the  prosecution  of 
Warren  Hastings. 

In  the  national  and  state  legislatures,  as 
well  as  at  the  various  bars  in  the  United 
States,  I  have  heard  great  volubility,  much 
good  sense,  and  some  random  touches  of  the 
pathetick  ;  but  in  the  same  bodies  I  have 
heard  a  far  greater  proportion  of  puerile  rant, 
of  tedious  and  disgusting  inanity.  Three 
remaks  are  true  as  to  almost  all  their  ora- 
tors. 

First ;  they  have  not  a  sufficient  fund  of 
geueral  knowledge. 


3a  BRITISH  SPY. 

Secondly  ;  they  have  not  the  habit  of  close 
and  solid  thinking. 

Thirdly  ;  they  do  not  aspire  at  original 
ornaments. 

From  these  three  defects  it  most  generally 
results,  that,  although  they  pour  out,  easily 
enough,  a  torrent  of  words,  yet  these  are 
destitute  of  the  light  of  erudition,  the  prac- 
tical utility  of  just  and  copious  thought,  of 
those  novel  and  beautiful  allusions  and  em- 
bellishments .with  which  the  very  scenery 
of  the  country  is  so  highly  calculated  to  in- 
spire them. 

The  truth  is,  my  dear  S**^****,  that 
this  scarcity  of  genuine  and  sublime  elo- 
quence is  not  confined  to  the  United  States ; 
instances  of  it  in  any  civilized  country  have 
always  been  rare  indeed.  Mr.  Blair  is  cer- 
tainly correct  in  the  opinion,  that  a  state  of 
nature  is  most  favourable  to  the  higher  ef- 
forts of  the  imagination,  and  the  more  unre- 
strained and  noble  raptures  of  the  heart. 
Civilization,  wherever  it  has  gained  ground, 
has  interwoven  with  society,  a  habit  of  ar- 
tificial and  elaborate  decorum,  which  mix- 
es in  every  operation  of  life,  deters  the  fancy 
from  every  bold  enterprise,  and  buries  na- 
ture under  a  load  of  hypocritical  ceremonies. 
A  man  therefore,  in  order  to  be  eloquent, 
has  to  forget  the  habits  in  which  he  has  been 
educated  ;  and  never  will  he  touch  his  audi- 
ence so  exquisitely,  as  when  he  goes  back  to 


BRITISH  SPY.  29 

the  primitive  simplicity  of  the  patriarchal 
age. 

I  have  said  that  instances  of  genuine  and 
sublime  eloquence  have  always  been  rare  in 
every  country.  It  is  true  that  Tully,  and 
Pliny  the  younger,  have,  in  their  epistles, 
represented  Rome,  in  their  respective  days, 
as  swarming  with  orators  of  the  first  class  : 
yet  from  the  specimens  which  they  them- 
selves have  left  us,  I  am  led  to  entertain  a 
very  humble  opinion  of  ancient  eloquence. 
Demosthenes,  we  know,  has  pronounced,  not 
"  the  chief,  but  the  sole  merit  of  an  orator  to 
consist  in  delivery,  or,  as  lord  Verulam  trans- 
lates it,  in  action;  and,  although  I  know  that 
the  world  would  proscribe  it  as  a  literary 
heresy,  I  cannot  help  believing  Tully's  mer- 
it to  have  been  principally  of  tnat  kind.  For 
my  own  part,  I  confess  very  frankly,  that  I 
have  never  met  with  any  thing  of  his,  which 
has,  according  to  my  taste,  deserved  the 
name  of  superior  eloquence.  His  style,  in- 
deed, is  pure,  polished,  sparkling,  full  and 
sonorous,  and,  perhaps,  deserves  all  the  en- 
comiums which  have  been  bestowed  on  it. 
But  an  oration  certainly  no  more  deserves 
the  title  of  superiour  eloquence  because  its 
style  is  ornamented,  than  the  figure  of  an 
Apollo  would  deserve  the  epithet  of  elegant 
merely  from  the  superiour  texture  and  flow  of 
the  drapery.  In  reading  an  oration  it  is  the 
mind  to  which  I  look.  It  is  the  expanse  and 
E 


30  BRITISH  SPY. 

richness  or  the  conception  itself  which  T  re- 
gard, and  not  the  glittering  tinsel  wherein  it 
may  be  attired.     Tully's  orations,  examined 
in  this  spirit,  have  with  me,  sunk  far  below 
the  grade  at  which  wre  have  been  taught  to 
tix  them.     It  is  true,  that  at  school  I  learnt, 
like  the  rest  of  the  world,  to  lisp,  "  Cicero 
the  orator"  :  but  when  I  grew  up  and  began 
to  judge  for  myself,  I  opened  his  volume  a- 
gain,  and  looked  in  vain  for  that  sublimity  of 
conception  which  fills  and  astonishes  the  mind, 
that  simple  pathos  which  finds  such  a  sweet 
welcome  to  every  breast,  or  that  restless  en- 
thusiasm of  unaffected  passion  which  takes 
the  heart  by  storm.     On  the  contrary  let  me 
confess  to  you  that,  whatever  may  be  the 
cause,  to  me,  he  seemed  cold  and  vapid  and 
uninteresting  and   tiresome  :  not  only  desti- 
tute of  that  compulsive  energy  of  thought, 
which  we  look  for  in  a  great  man,  but  ever 
void  of  the  strong,  rich  and  varied  colouring 
of  a   superiour  fancy. — His   master-piece  of 
composition,  his  wrork,  De  Oratore,  is,  in  my 
judgment,  extremely  light  and  unsubstantial  ; 
and,  in  truth,  is  little   more  than  a  tissue   of 
rhapsodies,   assailing  the  ear,  indeed,  with 
pleasant  sounds,  but  leaving  few  clear  and 
useful  traces  on  the  mind. — Plutarch  speaks 
of  his  person  as  all  grace,  his  voice  as  perfect 
inusick,  his  look  and  gesture  as  ail  alive,  strik- 
ing, dignified  and  peculiarly  impressive;  and 
I  incline  to  the  opinion  that  to  these  theatri- 


BRITISH  SPY.  '     31 

cal  advantages,  connected  with  the  just  re- 
liance which  the  Romans  had  in  his  patriot- 
ism and  good  judgment,  their  strong  interest 
in  the  subjects  dicussed  by  him,  and  their 
more  intimate  acquaintance  with  the  idiom  of 
his  language,  his  fame,  while  living,  arose  ; 
and  that  it  has  been  since  propagated  by  the 
schools  on  account  of  the  classick  purity  and 
elegance  of  his  style.  Many  of  these  remarks 
are,  in  my  opinion,  equally  applicable  to  De- 
mosthenes. He  deserves,  indeed,  the  distinc- 
tion of  having  more  fire  and  less  smoke  than 
Tully.  But  in  the  majestick  march  of  the 
mind — in  force  of  thought  and  splendour  of 
imagery,  I  think  both  the  orators  of  Greece 
and  Rome  eclipsed  by  more  than  one  person 
within  his  majesty's  dominions. 

Heavens  !  How  I  should  be  anathematized 
and  excommunicated  by  every  pedagogue  in 
Great  Britain,  if  these  remarks  were  made 
publick  !  Spirits  of  Car  and  of  Ascham  !  have 
mercy  upon  me  !  Woe  betide  the  hand  that 
plucks  the  wizard  beard  of  hoary  error.  From 
lisping  infancy  to  stooping  age,  the  reproach- 
es, the  curses  of  the  world  shall  be  upon  it ! — - 
But  to  you,  my  dearest  S*******,my  friend, 
my  preceptor,  to  you  I  disclose  my  opinions 
with  the  same  freedom  and  for  the  same  pur- 
pose, that  I  would  expose  my  wounds  to  a 
surgeon.  To  you  it  is  peculiarly  proper  that 
I  should  make  my  appeal  on  this  subject :  for 


32  BRITISH  SPY. 

when  eloquence  is  the  theme,  your  name  is 
not  far  off ! 

Tell  me,  then,  you,  who  are  capable  of  do- 
ing it,  what  is  this  divine  eloquence  ?  What, 
the  charm  by  which  the  orator  binds  the  sen- 
ses of  his  audience — by  which  he  attunes  and 
touches  and  sweeps  the  human  lyre,  with  the 
resistless  sway  and  master  hand  of  a  Timothe- 
us  ?  Is  not  the  whole  mystery  comprehended 
in  one  word— SYMPATHY  ?  I  mean  not 
merely  that  tender  passion  which  quavers  the 
lip  and  fills  the  eye  of  the  babe  when  he  looks 
on  the  sorrows  and  tears  of  a  mother  ;  but  that 
still  more  delicate  and  subtle  quality,  by 
which  we  passively  catch  the  very  colours, 
momentum  and  strength  of  the  mind,  to  whose 
operations  we  are  attending  ;  which  converts 
every  speaker  to  whom  we  listen,  into  a  Pro- 
crustes ;  and  enables  him  for  the  moment  to 
stretch  or  lop  our  faculties  to  fit  the  standi 
ard  in  his  own  mind  ? 

This  is  a  very  curious  subject,  I  am  some- 
times half  inclined  to  adopt  the  notion  stated 
by  our  Great  Bacon,  in  his  original  and  mas- 
terly treatise  on  the  Advancement  of  Learn- 
ing. *'  Fascination  says  he,  is  the  power  and 
<<  act  of  imagination  intensive  upon  oth- 
iC  er  bodies  than  the  body  of  the  imag- 
"inant;  wherein  the  school  of  Paracelsus 
"  and  the  disciples  of  pretended  natural  mag- 
"  ick  have  been  so  intemperate,  as  that  they 
*'  have  exalted  the  power  of  the  imagination 


BRITISH  SPY.  33 

"  to  be  much  one  of  the  power  of  miracle- 
"  working  faith  :— others  that  draw  nearer  to 
"  probability,  calling  to  their  view  the  secret 
"  passages  of  things  and  especially  of  the  con- 
<f  tagion  that  passeth  from  body  to  body,  do 
"  conceive  it  should  likewise  be  agreeable  to 
"  nature,  that  there  should  be  some  transmis- 
"  sions  and  operations  from  spirit  to  spirit, 

"  without  the   mediation  of  the  senses  : 

"  whence  the  conceits  have  grown,  now  al- 
"  most  made  civil,  of  the  mastering  spirit, 
"  and  the  force,  confidence,  and  the  like." 
This  notion  is  farther  explained  in  his  Sylva 
Syl varum,  wherein  he  tells  a  story  of  an  E- 
gyptian  soothsayer  who  made  Mark  Anthony 
believe  that  his  genius,  which  was  otherwise 
brave  and  confident,  was  in  the  presence  of 
Octavianus  Caesar,  poor  and  cowardly  :  and 
therefore  he  advised  him  to  absent  himself 
as  much  as  he  could,  and  remove  far  from 
him.  It  turned  out,liowever,  that  this  sooth- 
sayer was  suborned  by  Cleopatra,  who  wished 
Anthony's  company  in  Egypt. 

Yet,  if  there  be  not  something  of  this  se- 
cret intercourse  from  spirit  to  spirit,  how 
does  it  happen  that  one  speaker  shall  gradu- 
ally invade  and  benumb  all  the  faculties  of 
my  soul,  as  if  I  were  handling  a  torpedo  ; 
wnile  another,  like  the  gymnotus  of  Surinam, 
shall  arouse  me  with  an  electrick  shock  ?  How 
does  it  happen  that  the  first  shall  infuse  his 
poor  spirit  into  my  system,  lethargise  my  na- 


34  BRITISH  SPY.. 

tive.  intellects*,  and  bring  down  my  powers 
exactly  to  the  level  of  his  own  ;  or  that  the 
last  shall  descend  upon  me  like  an  angel  of 
light,  breathe  new  energies  into  my  frame, 
dilate  my  soul  with  his  own  intelligence,  ex- 
alt me  into  a  new  and  noble  region  of  thought, 
snatch  me  from  the  earth  at  pleasure,  and 
rap  me  to  the  seventh  heaven  ?  And,  what  is 
still  more  wonderful,  how  does  it  happen 
that  these  different  effects  endure  so  long  af- 
ter the  agency  of  the  speaker  has  ceased  ? 
In  so  much  that  if  I  sit  down  to  any  intellect- 
ual exercise,  after  listening  to  the  first  speak- 
er, my  performance  shall  be  unworthy  even 
of  me,  and  the  numb-fish  visible  and  tangible 
in  every  sentence  ;  whereas,  if  I  enter  on 
the  same  amusement,  after  having  attended 
to  the  last  mentioned  orator,  I  shall  be  as- 
tonished at  the  elevation  and  vigour  of  my 
own  thoughts  ;  and  if  I  meet  accidentally 
with  the  same  production  a  month  or  two  af- 
terwards, when  my  mind  has  lost  the  inspira- 
tion, shall  scarcely  recognize  it  for  my  ,vn 
work.  Whence  all  this  ?  To  me  it  ^  uld 
seem,  that  it  must  proceed  either  frofL  the 
subtile  commerce  between  the  spirits  of  men, 
which  Lord  Verulam  notices,  and  which  en- 
ables the  speaker  thereby  to  identify  his 
hearer  with  himself :  or  else  that  the  mind  of 
man  possesses,  independently  of  any  volition 
on  the  part  of  its  proprietor,  a  species  of  pu- 
pillary faculty  of  dilating  and  contracting  it- 


BRITISH  SPY.  33 

self  in  proportion  to  the  pencil  of  the  rays 
of  light  which  the  speaker  throws  upon  it ; 
which  dilatation  or  contraction,  as  in  the  case 
of  the  eye  cannot  be  immediately  and  ab- 
ruptly altered. 

Whatever  may  be  the  solution,  the  fact,  I 
think,  is  certainly  as  I  have  stated  it.  And 
it  is  remarkable  that  the  same  effect  is  pro- 
duced, though  perhaps  in  a  less  degree,  by 
perusing  books  into  which  different  degrees 
of  spirit  and  genius  have  been  infused.  I  am 
acquainted  with  a  gentleman  who  never  sits 
down  to  a  composition  wherein  he  wishes  to 
shine,  without  previously  reading,  wfith  in- 
tense application,  half  a  dozen  pages  of  his 
favourite  Bolingbroke.  Having  taken  the 
character  and  impulse  of  that  writer's  mind 
he  declares  that  he  feels  his  pen  to  flow  with 
a  spirit  not  his  own;  and  that,  if,  in  the  course 
o£  his  work,  his  powers  begin  to  languish,  he 
fi  fuds  it  easy  to  revive  and  charge  them  afresh 
frc  ■  \  the  same  never  failing  source.  If  these 
thin  be  not  visionary,  it  becomes  important 
to  a  i.n,  for  anew  reason,  what  book  he  reads 
and  what  company  he  keeps;  since,  according 
to  Lord  Verulam's  notion,  an  influx  of  this 
spirits  of  others  may  change  the  native  char- 
acter of  his  heart  and  understanding,  before 
he  is  aware  of  it;  or,  according  to  the  other 
suggestion,  he  may  so  habitually  contract  the 
pupil  of  his  mind,  as  to  be  disqualified  for 
the  comprehension  of  a  great    subject,    and 


36  BRITISH  SPY. 

fit  only  formicroscopick  observations.  Where- 
as by  keeping  the  company  and  reading  the 
works  of  men  of  magnanimity  and  genius 
only,  he  may  receive  their  qualities  by  subtle 
transmission,  and  eventually  get  the  eye,  the 
ardour  and  the  enterprise  of  an  eagle. 


************** 


LETTER  IV. 


BRITISH    SPY. 


LETTER  IV. 


RICHMOND,   SEPTEMBER,   15. 

BUT  whither  am  I  wandering  ?  Permit 
me  to  return.  Admitting  the  correctness  of 
the  principles  formerly  mentioned,  it  would 
seem  to  be  a  fair  conclusion,  that  whenever 
an  orator  wishes  to  know  what  effect  he  has 
wrought  on  his  audience,  he  should  cooly 
and  conscientiously  propound  to  himself  this 
question — have  I,  myself,  throughout  my  o- 
ration,  felt  those  clear  and  cogent  convic- 
tions of  judgment,  and  that  pure  and  exalted 
fire  of  the  soul,  with  which  I  wished  to  inspire 
others  ?  For,  he  may  rely  on  it,  that  he  can- 
not more  impart  (or,  to  use  Bacon's  word, 
transmit)  convictions  and  sensations  which  he 
himself  has  not,  at  the  time,  sincerely  felt, 
*han  he  can  convey  a  clear  title  to  property, 
in  which  he  himself  has  no  title. 

This  leads  me  to  remark  a  defect,  which 
I  have  noticed  more  than  once  in  this  coun- 
try. Following  up  too  closely  the  cold  con- 
ceit of  the  Roman  division  of  an  oration,  the 
speakers  set  aside  a  particular  part  of  their 
discourse,  usually  the  'peroration,  in  wrhich 
E 


38  BRITISH  SPY. 

they  take  it  into  their  heads  that  they  will  be 
pathetick.  Accordingly,  when  they  reach 
this  part,  whether  it  be  prompted  by  the  feel- 
ings or  not,  a  mighty  bustle  commences. 
The  speaker  pricks  up  his  ears,  erects  his 
chest,  tosses  his  arms  with  hysterick  vehe- 
mence, and  says  every  thing  which  he  sup- 
poses ought  to  affect  his  hearers  ;  but  it  is  all 
in  vain  :  for  it  is  obvious  that  every  thing  he 
says  is  prompted  by  the  head,  and  however 
it  may  display  his  ingenuity  and  fertility — 
however  it  may  appeal  to  the  admiration  of 
his  hearers,  it  will  never  strike  deeper.  The 
hearts  of  the  audience  will  refuse  all  com- 
merce  except  with  the  heart  of  the  speaker  ; 
nor  in  this  commerce  is  it  possible  by  any 
disguise,  however  artful,  to  impose  false 
ware  on  them.  However  the  speaker  may 
labour  to  seem  to  feel,  however  near  he  may 
approach  to  the  appearance  of  the  reality, 
the  heart  nevertheless  possesses  a  keen,  un- 
erring sense,  which  never  fails  to  detect  the 
imposture.  It  would  seem  as  if  the  heart  of 
man  stamps  a  secret  mark  on  all  its  effusions, 
which  alone  can  give  them  currency,  and 
which  no  ingenuity,  however  adroit,  can  suc- 
cessfully imitate.  I  have  been  not  a  little 
diverted  here,  in  listening  to  some  fine  ora- 
tors who  deal  almost  entirely  in  this  pathos 
of  the  head.  They  practise  the  start,  the 
pause — make  an  immense  parade  of  attitudes 
and  gestures,  and  seem  to  imagine  them- 
selves piercing  the  heart  with  a  thousand 


BRITISH  SPY.  G9 

wounds.  The  heart  all  the  time,  develop- 
ing every  trick  that  is  played  to  cajole  her, 
and  sitting  serene  and  composed,  looks  on 
and  smiles  at  the  ridiculous  pageant  as  it 
passes.  Nothing  can,  in  my  opinion,  be 
more  illy  judged  in  an  orator,  than  to  in- 
dulge himself  in  this  idle,  artificial  parade. 
It  is  particularly  unfortunate  in  an  exordium. 
Ic  is  as  much  as  to  say,  caveat  auditor  ;  and 
for  my  own  part,  the  moment  I  see  an  ora- 
tor rise  with  this  menacing  majesty — assume 
a  look  of  solemn  wisdom — stretch  forth  his 
right  arm,  like  the  rubens  dexter  of  Jove — - 
and  hear  him  open  his  throat  in  deep  and 
tragick  tone,  I  feel  myself  involuntarily  brac- 
ed and  in  an  attitude  of  defence,  as  if  I  were 
going  to  take  a  bout  with  Mendoza.  The 
Virginians  boast  of  an  orator  of  nature, 
whose  manner  was  the  reverse  of  all  this  ; 
and  he  is  the  only  orator  of  whom  they  do 
boast,  with  much  emphasis.  I  mean  the  cel- 
ebrated Patrick  Henry,  whom  I  regret  that  I 
came  to  this  country  too  late  to  see.  I  can- 
not, indeed,  easily  forgive  him,  even  in  the 
grave,  his  personal  instrumentality  in  separ- 
ating these  fair  colonies  from  Great  Britain. 
Yet  I  dare  not  withhold  from  the  memory  of 
his  talents,  the  tribute  of  respect  to  which 
they  are  so  justly  entitled.  I  am  told  that 
his  general  appearance  and  manners  were 
those  of  a  plain  farmer  or  planter  of  the  back 
country  ;  that,  in  this  character,  he  always 
entered  oa  the  exordium  of  an  oration — di*- 


40  BRITISH  SPY. 

qualifying  himself,  with  looks  and  expres- 
sions of  humility,  so  lowly  and  unassuming, 
as  threw  every  heart  off  its  guard,  and  in- 
duced his  audience  to  listen  to  him,  with  the 
same  easy  openness  with  which  they  would 
converse  with  an  honest  neighbour  : — but, 
by  and  by,  when  it  was  little  expected,  he 
would  take  a  flight  so  high,  and  blaze  with  a 
splendour  so  heavenly,  as  filled  tliem  with  a 
kind  of  religious  awe,  and  gave  him  the  force 
and  authority  of  a  prophet.  You  remember 
this  was  the  manner  of  Ulysses  ;  commencing 
with  a  depressed  look,  and  hesitating  voice. 
Yet  I  dare  say  Mr.  Henry  was  directed  to  it, 
not  by  the  example  of  Ulysses,  of  which  it  is 
\-ery  probable,  that  at  the  commencement 
of  his  career,  at  least,  he  was  entirely  igno- 
rant ; — but  either  that  it  was  the  genuine 
trembling  diffidence,  without  which,  if  Tul- 
ly  may  be  believed, a  great  orator  never  rises ; 
or  else  that  he  was  prompted  to  it  by  his  own 
sound  judgment  and  his  intimate  knowledge 
of  the  human  heart.  I  have  seen  the  skel- 
etons of  some  of  his  orations.  The  periods, 
and  their  members,  are  short,  quick,  eager, 
palpitating,  and  are  manifestly  the  extempo- 
raneous ettusions  of  aminddeeply  convicted, 
and  a  heart  inflamed  with  zeal  for  the  propa- 
gation of  those  convictions.  They  afford, 
however,  a  very  inadequate  sample  of  his 
talents  ;  the  stenographer  having  never  the 
tempted  to  follow  him,  when  he  arose  in  at- 
strength  and  awful  majesty  of  his  genius. 


BRITISH  SPY.  41 

I  am  not  a  little  surprised  to  find  elo- 
quence of  this  high  order  so  negligently  cul- 
tivated in  the  United  States.  Considering 
what  a  very  powerful  engine  it  is  in  a  re- 
publick,  and  how  peculiarly  favourable  to  its 
culture,  the  climate  of  republicks  has  been  al- 
ways found,  I  expected  to  have  seen  in  A- 
merica,  more  votaries  to  Mercury  than  even 
to  Plutus,  Indeed  it  would  be  so  sure  a 
road  both  to  wealth  and  honours,  that  if  I 
coveted  either,  and  were  an  American,  I 
would  bend  all  my  powers  to  its  acquire- 
ment, and  try  whether  I  could  not  succeed 
as  well  as  Demosthenes,  in  vanquishing  nat- 
ural imperfections.  Ah  !  my  dear  S*******, 
were  you  a  citizen  of  this  country  !  you,  un- 
der the  influence  of  whose  voice  a  parliament 
of  Great  Britain  has  trembled  and  shuddered, 
while  her  refined  and  enlightened  galleries 
have  wept  and  fainted  in  the  excess  of  feeling  ! 
what  might  you  not  accomplish  !  But,  for 
the  honour  of  my  country,  I  am  much  better 
pleased  that  you  are  a  Britain.  On  the  sub- 
ject of  Virginian  eloquence,  you  shall  hear 
father  from  me.  In  the  mean  time,  adieu, 
my  s*******5  my  friend,  my  father. 

************** 


LETTER  V, 


RRITISH    SPY. 


LETTER    V. 


RICHMOND,    SEPTEMBER    23. 

I  HA  VE  just  returned,  my  dearS*******, 
from  an  interesting  morning's  ride.  My  ob- 
ject was  to  visit  the  site  ot  the  Indian  town, 
Powhatan,  which  vou  will  remember  was  the 
metropolis  of  the  dominions  of  Pocabuntas' 
father,  and,  very  probably,  the  birthplace  of 
that  celebrated  princess.  The  town  was  built 
on  the  river  about  two  miles  below  the  ground 
now  occupied  by  Richmond  ;  that  is,  about 
two  miles  below  the  head  of  tide  water.  The 
land  whereon  it  stood  is,  at  present,  part  of  a 
beautiful  and  valuable  farm  belonging  to  a 
gentleman  by  the  name  of  William  Mayo. 

Aware  of  the  slight  manner  in  which  the 
Indians  have  always  constructed  their  habita- 
tions, I  was  not  at  all  disappointed  in  find- 
ing no  vestige  of  the  old  town.  But  as  I 
traversed  the  ground  over  which  Pocahuntas 
had  so  often  bounded  and  frolicked  in  the 
sprightly  morning  of  her  youth,  I  could  not 
help  recalling  the  principal  features  of  her 
history,  and  heaving  a  sigh  of  mingled  pity 
stud  veneration  to  her  memory.     GoodHeav- 


BRITISH  SPY.  43 

en  !  What  an  eventful  life  was  hers  !  To 
speak  of  nothing  else,  the  arrival  of  the  Eng- 
lish in  her  father's  dominions,  must  have  ap- 
peared, (as,  indeed,  it  turned  out  to  be)  a 
most  portentous  phenomenon.  It  is  not  easy 
for  us  to  conceive  the  amazement  and  con- 
sternation which  must  have  filled  her  mind, 
and  that  of  her  nation,  at  the  first  appear- 
ance of  our  countrymen.  Their  great  ship, 
with  all  her  sails  spread,  advancing  in  solemn 
majesty  to  the  shore  ;  their  complexion  ; 
their  dress;  their  language  ;  their  domestick 
animals  ;  their  cargo  of  new  and  glittering 
wealth  ;  and  then,  the  thunder  and  irresisti- 
ble force  of  their  artillery  ;  the  distant  coun- 
try announced  by  them,  far  beyond  the  great 
water, of  which  the  oldest  Indian  never  heard, 
or  thought,  or  dreamed — all  this  was  so  new, 
so  wonderful,  so  tremendous,  that  I  do  se- 
riously suppose,  the  personal  descent  of  an 
army  of  Milton's  celestial  angels,  robed  in 
light,  sporting  the  bright  beams  of  the  sun, 
and  redoubling  their  splendour,  making  di- 
vine harmony  with  their  golden  harps,  or 
playing  with  the  bolt,  and  chasing  the  rapid 
lightning  of  heaven,  would  excite  no  more 
astonishment  in  Great-Britain,  than  did  the 
debarkation  of  the  English  among  the  abori- 
gines of  Virginia. 

Poor  Indians  ! — Where  are  they  now  ! — 
Indeed  my  dear  S*******,  this  is  a  truly  af- 
flicting consideration.  The  people  here  may 
say  what  they  please  ;  but  on  the  principles 


44  BRITISH  SPY. 

of  eternal  truth  and  justice,  they  bare  no 
right  to  this  country.  They  say  that  they 
have  bought  it  ;  Bought  it !  Yes  ;  of  whom? 
Of  the  poor  trembling  natives,  who  knew 
that  refusal  would  be  vain,  and  who  strove 
to  make  a  merit  of  necessity,  by  seeming 
to  yield  with  a  grace,  what  they  knew  they 
bad  not  the  power  to  retain.  Such  a  bar- 
gain might  appease  the  conscience  of  a 
gentleman  of  the  green  bag,  "  worn  and 
hacknied"  in  the  arts  and  frauds  of  his  pro- 
fession ;  but  in  heaven's  chancery,  my 
S*******,  there  can  be  little  doubt  that  it 
has  been  long  since  set  aside  on  the  ground 
of  duresse*  Poor  wretches  !  No  wonder  that 
they  are  so  implacably  vindictive  against  the 
"white  people  ;  no  wonder  that  the  rage  of 
resentment  is  handed  down  from  generation 
to  generation  ;  no  wonder  that  they  refuse 
to  associate  and  mix  permanently  with  their 
unjust  and  cruel  invaders  and  exterminators  ; 
no  wonder  that,  in  the  unabating  spite  and 
frenzv  of  conscious  impotence,  they  wage 
an  eternal  war  as  well  as  they  are  able  ; — 
that  they  triumph  in  the  rare  opportunity  of 
revenge;  that  they  dance,  sing  and  rejoice, 
as  the  victim  shrieks  and  faints  amid  the 
flames,  when  they  imagine  all  the  crimes  of 
their  oppressors  collected  on  his  head,  and 
fancy  the  spirits  of  their  injured  forefathers 
hovering  over  the  scene,  smiling,  with  fero- 
cious delight  at  the  grateful   spectacle,    and 


BRITISH  SPY.  40 

feasting  on  the  precious  odour  as  it  arises 
from  the  burning  blood  of  the  white  man. 

Yet  the  people,  here,  affect  to  wonder 
that  the  Indians  are  so  very  unsusceptible  of 
civilization  ;  or,  in  other  words,  that  they 
so  obstinately  refuse  to  adopt  the  manners 
of  the  white  man.  Go,  Virginian  ;  erase 
from  the  Indian  nation  the  tradition  of  their 
wrongs  ;  make  them  forget,  if  you  can,  that 
once  this  charming  country  was  theirs  ; 
that  over  these  fields,  and  through  these 
forests,  their  beloved  forefathers,  once,  in 
careless  gaiety,  pursued  their  sports,  and 
hunted  their  game  ;  that every  returning  day 
found  them  the  sole,  the  peaceful,  the  happy 
proprietors  of  this  extensive  and  beautiful 
domain  ;  Make  them  forget,  too,  if  you  can, 
that  i a  the  midst  of  all  this  innocence,  sim- 
plicity and  bliss,  the  white  man  came,  and 
lo  !  the  animated  chase,  the  feast,the  dance, 
the  song  of  fearless,  thoughtless  joy,  were  o- 
ver  ;  that,  ever  since,  they  have  been  made 
to  drink  of  the  bitter  cup  of  humiliation  ; 
treated  like  dogs  ;  their  lives,  their  liberties, 
the  sport  of  the  white  men  ;  their  country, 
and  the  graves  of  their  fathers,  torn  from 
them  in  cruel  succession  ;  until,  driven  from 
river  to  river,  from  forest  to  forest,  and, 
through  a  period  of  two  hundred  years,  rol- 
led back,  nation  upon  nation,  they  find 
themselves  fugitives,  vagrants  and  stranger* 
in  their  own  country,  and  look  forward  to 
the  certain  period   when  their  descendants 

F 


46  BRITISH  SPY. 

will  be  totally  extinguished  by  wars  ;  driven 
at  the  point  of  the  bayonet,  into  the  western 
ocean  ;  or  reduced,  still  more  deplorable  and 
horrid,  to  the  condition  of  slaves  : — Go,  ad- 
minister the  cup  of  oblivion  to  recollections 
and  anticipations  like  these,  and  then  you 
will  cease  to  complain  that  the  Indian  re- 
fuses to  be  civilized.  But,  until  then,  surely 
it  is  nothing  wonderful  that  a  nation  yet 
bleeding  afresh  from  the  memory  of  ancient 
wrongs,  perpetually  agonizing  by  new  out- 
rages, and  goaded  into  desperation  and  mad- 
ness at  the  prospect  of  the  certain  ruin  which 
awaits  their  descendants,  should  hate  the  au- 
thors of  their  miseries,  of  their  desolations, 
their  destruction  ;  should  hate  their  manners, 
hate  their  colour,  their  language,  their  name, 
and  every  thing  that  belongs  to  them.  No, 
never,  until  time  shall  wear  out  the  history  of 
their  sorrows  and  their  sufferings,  will  the 
Indian  be  brought  to  love  the  white  man, and 
to  imitate  his  manners. 

Great  God  !  To  reflect,  my  S*******, 
that  the  authors  of  all  these  wrongs  were  our 
own  countrymen,  our  forefathers,  professors* 
of  the  meek  and  benevolent  religion  of  Je- 
sus !  O  !  it  was  impious — it  was  unmanly — 
poor  and  pitiful  !  Gracious  Heaven  !  what 
had  these  poor  people  done  ?  The  simple  in- 
habitants of  these  peaceful  plains,  what 
wrong,  what  injury,  had  they  offered  to  the 
English  ?  my  soul  melts  with  pity  and  shame* 


BRITISH  SPY.  47 

As  for  the  present  inhabitants,  it  must  be 
granted  that  they  are    comparatively    inno- 
cent ;  unless,   indeed,  they,   also,   have  en- 
croached under  the  guise  of  treaties,  which 
they  themselves  have  previously  contrived  to 
render  expedient  or  necessary  to  the  Indians. 
Whether  this  has  been  the  case  or  not,  I  am 
too  much  a  stranger  to  the  interiour  transac- 
tions of  this  country  to  decide.     But  it  seems 
to  me  that  were  la  President  of  the  United 
States,  I  would  glory  in  going  to  the  Indians, 
throwing  myself  on  my   knees  before  them 
and    saying    to   them,    "  Indians,   friends, 
"  brothers,    O  !    forgive    my   countrymen  ! 
"  Deeply  have  our  forefathers  wronged  you  ; 
"  and  they   have  forced  us  to  continue  the 
wrong.     Reflect,  brothers,  it  was   not  our 
fault  that  we  were  born  in  your  country  ; 
but   now,  we  have  no   other  home  ;  we 
have  no  where  else  to  rest  our  feet.     Will 
you  not,  then,  permit  us  to  remain  ?  Can 
you  not  forgive  even  us,  innocent   as    we 
are  ?  If  you  can,  O  !  come  to  our  bosoms  ; 
be,  indeed,   our  brothers,  and  since  there 
is  room  enough  for  us  all,   give  us  a  home 
in  your  land  and  let  us  be  children  of  the 
same  affectionate  family."     I  believe  that 
a  magnanimity  of  sentiment  like  this,  follow- 
ed up  by  a  correspondent  greatness  of  con- 
duct  in  the    people  of   the  Uuited  States, 
would  go  farther  to  bury  the  tomahawk  and 
produce  a  fraternization  with  the  Indians, 
>han  all  the  presents,  treaties  and  missionaries 


45  BRITISH  SPY. 

that  can  be  employed  ;  dashed  and  defeated 
as  these  latter  means  always  are,  by  a 
claim  of  rights  on  the  part  of  the  white  peo- 
ple which  the  Indians  know  to  be  false  and 
baseless.  Let  me  not  be  told  that  the  In- 
dians are  too  dark  and  fierce  to  be  affected 
by  generous  and  noble  sentiments.  I  will 
not  believe  it.  Magnanimity  can  never  be 
lost  on  a  nation  which  has  produced  an  Alk- 
nomack,  a  Logan  and  Pocahuntas. 

The  repetition  of  the  name  of  this  amiable 
princess  brings  me  back  to  the  point  from 
which  I  have  digressed.  I  wonder  that  the 
Virginians,  fond  as  they  are  of  anniversaries, 
have  instituted  no  festival  or  order  in  honour 
to  her  memory.  For  my  own  part  I  have  lit- 
tle doubt,  from  the  histories  which  we  have 
of  the  first  attempts  at  colonizing  their  coun- 
try, that  Pocahuntas  deserves  to  be  consider- 
ed as  the  patron  deity  of  the  enterprize. 
When  it  is  remembered  how  long  the  colony 
struggled  to  get  a  footing  ;  how  often  sick- 
ness or  famine,  neglect  at  home,  mismanage- 
ment here,  and  the  hostilities  of  the  natives 
brought  it  to  the  brink  of  ruin  ;  through  what 
a  tedious  lapse  of  time,  alternately  languish- 
ing and  revived,  it  sunk  and  rose,  sometimes 
hanging  like  Addison's  lamp.  "  quivering  at 
a  point,"  then  suddenly  shooting  up  into  a 
sickly  and  short  lived  flame ;  in  one  word,, 
when  wre  recollect  how  near  and  how  often 
it  verged  towards  total  extinction,  maugre 
the  patronage  of  Pocahuntas  >    there  is  the 


BRITISH  SPY.  49 

strongest  reason  to  believe  that,  but  for 
her  patronage,  the  anniversary  cannon  of  the 
fourth  of  July  would  never  have  resounded 
throughout  the  United  States. 

Is  it  not  probable  that  this  sensible  ai^d  a- 
miable  woman,  perceiving  the  superiority  of 
the  Europeans,  foreseeing  the  probability  of 
the  subjugation  of  her  countrymen,  and  anx- 
ious, as  well  to  soften  their  destiny  as  to 
save  the  needless  effusion  of  blood,  desired, 
by  her  marriage  with  Mr.  Rolfe,  to  hasten 
the  abolition  of  all  distinction  between  In- 
dians and  white  men  ;  to  bind  their  interests 
and  affections  by  the  nearest  and  most  en- 
dearing ties,  and  to  make  them  regard  them- 
selves, as  one  people,  the  children  of  the 
same  great  family  ?  If  such  were  her  wise 
and  benevolent  views,  and  I  have  no  doubt 
that  they  were,  how  poorly  were  they  back- 
ed by  the  British  Court  ?  No  wonder  at  the 
resentment  and  indignation  with  which 
she  saw  them  neglected  ;  no  wonder  at  the 
bitterness  of  the  disappointment  and  vexa- 
tion which  she  expressed  to  Capt.  Smith,  in 
London,  arising  as  well  from  the  cold  recep- 
tion which  she  herself  had  met,,  as  from  the 
contemptuous  and  insulting  point  of  view  in 
which  she  found  that  her  nation  was  regard- 
ed. Unfortunate  Princess  !  She  deserved  a 
happier  fate  !  But  I  am  consoled  by  these  re- 
reflections  ;  first,  that  she  sees  her  descen- 
dants among  the  most  respectable  families  in 
Virginia  ;  and  that  they  are  not  only  superi- 


50  BRITISH  SPY. 

our  to  the  false  shame  of  disavowing  her  as 
their  ancestor,  but  that  they  pride  them- 
selves, and  with  reason  too,  on  the  honour  of 
their  descent :  Secondly — that  she  herself 
has  gone  to  a  country,  where  she  finds  hex 
noble  wishes  realized  ;  where  the  distinction 
of  colour  is  no  more,  but  where  indeed,  it  is 
perfectly  immaterial,  "  what  complexion  an 
Indian  or  an  African  sun  may  have  burnt" 
on  the  pilgrim. 

Adieu,  my  dear  S*******.  This  train  of 
thought  has  destroyed  the  tone  of  my  spirits  ; 
when  I  recover  them,  you  shall  hear  further 
from  me.     Once  more,  adieu. 


#*##**##*##*#***##** 


LETTER    VI, 


BRITISH    SPY. 


LETTER  VI. 


RICHMOND,    SEPTEMBER    23. 

I  HAVE  been,  my  dear  S*******,  on  an 
excursion  through  the  countries  which  lie  a- 
longthe  eastern  side  of  the  Blue  Ridge.  A  gen- 
eral description  of  that  country  and  its  inhab- 
itants may  form  the  subject  of  a  future  letter. 
For  the  present,  I  must  entertain  you  with 
an  account  of  a  most  singular  and  interest- 
ing adventure  which  I  met  with  in  the 
course  of  the  tour. 

It  was  on  Sunday  as  I  travelled  through 
the  county  of  Orange,  that  my  eye  was 
caught  by  a  cluster  of  horses  tied  near  a  ru- 
inous old  wooden  house  in  the  forest  not  far 
from  the  road  side.  Having  frequently  seen 
such  objects  before,  in  travelling  through 
these  States,  I  had  no  difficulty  in  understand- 
ing that  this  was  a  place  of  religious  worship. 
Devotion  alone  should  have  stopped  me  to 
join  in  the  duties  of  the  congregation  ;  but  I 
must  confess  that  curiosity  to  hear  the  preach- 
er of  such  a  wilderness,  was  not  the  least  of 
my  motives.  On  entering,  I  was  struck  with 
his  preternatural  appearance.  He  was  a  tall 
and  very  spare   old  man — his  head,  which 


52  BRITISH  SPY. 

was  covered  with  a  white  linen  cap,  his  shriv- 
elled hands,  and  his  voice,  all  shaking  under 
the  influence  of  a  palsy,  in  a  few  moments  as- 
certained to  me  that  he  was  perfectly  blind. 
The  first  emotions  which  touched  my  breast 
were  those  of  mingled  pity  and  veneration. 
But  ah  !  Sacred  God  !  How  soon  were  all 
my  feelings  changed  !  The  lips  of  Plato  were 
never  more  worthy  a  prognostick  swarm  of 
bees,  than  were  the  lips  of  this  holy  man  !  It 
was  a  day  of  the  administration  of  the  sacra- 
ment, and  his  subject,  of  course,  was  the  pas- 
sion of  our  Saviour.  I  had  heard  the  subject 
handled  a  thousand  times  :  I  had  thought  it 
exhausted  long  ago.  Little  did  I  suppose 
that  in  the  wild  woods  of  America  I  was  to 
meet  with  a  man  whose  eloquence  would  give 
to  this  topicka  new  and  subiimer  pathos  than 
I  had  ever  before  witnessed.  As  he  descend- 
ed from  the  pulpit  to  distribute  the  mystick 
symbol  there  was  a  peculiar,  a  more  than  usu- 
al solemnity  in  his  air  and  manner,  which 
made  my  blood  run  cold  and  my  whole  frame 
to  shiver.  He  then  drew  a  picture  of  our 
Saviour — his  trialbefore  Pilate — his  ascent  up 
Calvary — his  crucifixion,  and  his  death.  I 
knew  the  whole  history  ;  but  never  until  then 
had  I  heard  the  circumstances  so  selected,  so 
arranged,  so  coloured  !  It  was  all  new  ;  and 
I  seemed  to  have  heard  it  for  the  first  time  in 
my  life.  His  enunciation  was  so  deliberate, 
that  his  voice  trembled  on  every  syllable  :  and 
«v.ery  heart  trembled  in  unison.     His  pecu- 


BRITISH  SPY.  53 

liar  phrases  had  that  force  of  description,  that 
the  original  scene  appeared  to  be  at  that  mo- 
ment acting  before  our  eyes.  We  saw  the 
very  faces  of  the  Jews — the  staring,  frightful 
distortions  of  malice  and  rage.  We  saw  the 
buffet — my  soul  kindled  with  a  flame  of  indig- 
nation, and  my  hands  were  involuntarily  and 
convulsively  clenched. — But  when  he  came 
to  touch  the  patience,  the  forgiving  meek- 
ness of  our  Saviour — when  he  drew,  to  the 
life,  his  blessed  eyes  streaming  in  tears  to 
heaven,  his  voice  breathing  to  God  a  soft  and 
gentle  prayer  of  pardon  on  his  enemies 
"  Father  forgive  them,  for  they  know  not 
what  they  do" — the  voice  of  the  preacher, 
which  had,  all  along,  grown  fainter  and  faint- 
er, until  his  utterance  being  entirely  obstruct- 
ed by  the  force  of  his  feelings,  he  raised  his 
handkerchief  to  his  eyes,  and  burst  into  a  loud 
and  irrepressible  Hood  of  grief.  The  effect 
is  inconceivable.  The  whole  house  resound- 
ed with  the  mingled  groans  and  sobs  and 
shrieks  of  the  congregation.  It  was  some 
time  before  the  tumult  had  subsided  so  far  as 
to  permit  him  to  proceed.  Indeed,  judging 
by  the  usual  but  fallacious  standard  of  my 
own  weakness,  I  began  to  be  very  uneasy 
for  the  situation  of  the  preacher.  For  I  could 
not  conceive  how  he  would  be  able  to  let  his 
audience  down  from  the  height  to  which  he 
had  wound  them,  without  impairing  the  so- 
lemnity and  dignity  of  the  subject,  or  per- 
haps shocking  them  bv  the  abruptness  of  the 
o 


54  BRITISH  SPY. 

fall.  But — no  :  the  descent  was  as  beautiful 
and  sublime,  as  the  elevation  had  been  rapid 
and  enthusiastick.  The  first  sentence  with 
which  he  broke  the  awful  silence  was  a  quot- 
ation from  Rousseau  :  "  Socrates  died  like  a 
philosopher,  but  Jesus  Christ  like  a  God  !" 
I  despair  of  giving  you  any  idea  of  the  effect 
produced  by  this  short  sentence,  unless  you 
could  perfectly  conceive  the  whole  manner 
of  the  man,  as  well  as  the  peculiar  crisis  in 
the  discourse.  Never  before  did  I  completely 
understand  what  Demosthenes  means  by  lay- 
ing such  stress  on  delivery. 

You  are  to  bring  before  you  the  venerable 
figure  of  the  preacher — his  blindness,  con- 
stantly recalling  to  your  recollection  old 
Homer,  Ossian  and  Milton  and  associating 
with  his  performance,  the  melancholy  gran- 
deur of  their  geniuses,  you  are  to  imagine  that 
you  hear  his  slow,  solemn,  wrell  accented  e- 
nunciation,  and  his  voice  of  affecting,  tremb- 
ling melody — you  are  to  remember  the  pitch 
of  passion  and  enthusiasm  to  which  the  con- 
gregation were  raised — and  then  the  few  min- 
utes of  portentous,  deathlike  silence  which 
reigned  throughout  the  house — the  preacher 
removing  his  white  handkerchief  from  his  aged 
face  (even  yet  wet  from  the  recent  torrent 
of  his  tears)  &  slowly  stretching  forth  the  pal- 
sied hand  which  holds  it,  begins  the  sentence 
— "  Socrates  died  like  a  philosopher" — and 
then  pausing,  raised  his  other,  pressing  them 
both,  clasped  together,  with  warmth  and  en- 


BRITISH  SPY,  55 

ergy  to  his  breast, lifting  his  "sightless  balls" 
to  heaven,  and  pouring  his  whole  soul  into 
his  tremulous  voice — u  but  Jesus  Christ — - 
like  a  God  !" — If  he  had  been  indeed  and  in 
truth  an  angel  of  light,  the  effect  could 
scarcely  have  been  more  divine.  Whatever 
I  had  been  able  to  conceive  the  sublimity  of 
Massillon,or  the  force  ofBourdaloue,  had  fal- 
len far  short  of  the  power  which  I  feel  from 
the  delivery  of  this  simple  sentence.  Theblood 
which,  just  before,  had  rushed  in  a  torrent 
upon  my  brain,  and  in  the  violence  and  ag- 
ony of  my  feeling  had  held  my  whole  system 
in  suspence,nowran  back  into  my  heart  with 
a  sensation  which  I  cannot  describe  ;  a  kind 
of  shuddering,  delicious  horrour !  The  parox- 
ysm of  blended  pity  andindignation,to  which 
I  had  been  transported,  subsided  in  the  deep- 
est fell  abasement,  humility  and  adoration  I 
I  had  just  been  lacerated  and  dissolved  by 
sympathy  for  our  Saviour  as  a  fellow  crea- 
ture ;  but  now,  with  fear  and  trembling,  I 
adored  him  as — a  "  God  !" 

If  this  description  gives  you  the  impression 
that  this  incomparable  minister  had  any 
thing  of  shallow,  theatrical  trick  in  his  man- 
ner, it  does  him  great  injustice.  I  have  nev- 
er seen  in  any  other  orator,  such  an  union  of 
simplicity  and  majesty.  He  has  not  a  ges- 
ture, an  attitude,  an  accent,  to  which  he  does 
not  seem  forced  by  the  sentiment  which  he 
is  expressing.  His  mind  is  too  serious,  too 
earnest,  too  solicitous,  and,  at  the  same  time^ 


56  BRITISH  SPY. 

too  dignified,  to  stoop  to  artifice.  Although  as 
far  removed  from  ostentation  as  a  man  can 
be,  yetit  is  clear  from  the  train,  the  style  and 
substance  of  his  thoughts,  that  he  is  not  on- 
ly a  very  polite  scholar,  but  a  man  of  exten- 
sive and  profound  erudition.  I  was  forcibly 
struck  with  a  short,  yet  beautiful  character 
which  he  drew  of  our  learned  and  amiable 
countryman,  Sir  Robert  Boyle  :  he  spoke  of 
him,  as  if  "  his  noble  mind  had,  even  before 
death,  divested  herself  of  all  influence,  froip 
his  frail  tabernacle  of  flesh  ;"  and  called  him, 
in  his  peculiar  emphatick  and  impressive  man- 
ner, "  a  pure  intelligence — the  link  between 
men  and  angels  !" 

This  man  has  been  before  my  imagination 
almost  ever  since.  A  thousand  times,  as  I 
rode  along,  I  dropped  the  reins  of  my  bridle, 
stretched  forth  my  hand,  and  tried  to  imitate 
his  quotation  from  Rousseau  ;  a  thousand 
times  I  abandoned  the  attempt  in  despair,  and 
felt  persuaded  that  his  peculiar  manner  and 
power  arose  from  an  energy  of  soul  which  Na- 
ture could  give,  but  which  no  human  Being 
could  justly  copy.  In  short,  he  seems  to  be 
altogether  a  being  of  a  former  age,  or  of  a 
totally  different  nature  from  the  rest  of  men. 

As  I  recall  at  this  moment  several  of  his 
awfully  striking  attitudes,  the  chilling  tide 
-vyith  which  my  blood  begins  to  pour  along 
my  arteries,  reminds  me  of  the  emotions 
produced  by  the  first  sight  of  Gray's  intro- 
ductory picture  of  his  bard  : 


BRITISH  SPY. 

=  57 

On  a  rock,  whose  haughty  brow 

frowns  o'er  old  Conway's  foaming  flood, 
rob'd  in  the  sable  garb  of  woe, 

with  haggard  eyes  the  poet  stood, 
(loose  his  beard  and  hoary  hair 
stream'd  like  a  meteor  to  the  troubled  air  !) 
and  with  a  Poet's  hand  and  Prophet's  fire, 
struck  the  deep  sorrow  on  his  lyre. 

Guess  my  surprise  when,  on  my  arrival  at 
Richmond,  and  mentioning  the  name  of  this 
man,  I  found  not  one  person  who  had  ever 
before  heard  of  JAMES  WADDELL.  Is  it 
not  strange  that  such  a  genius  as  this,  so  ac- 
complished a  scholar,  so  divine  an  orator, 
should  be  permitted  to  languish  and  die  in 
obscurity,  within  eight  miles  of  the  metropo- 
lis of  Virginia  ? 


**#*****#*#*#******* 


LETTER    VII. 


BRITISH    SPY, 


LETTER  VI. 


RICHMOND,  OCTOBER  15. 

MEN  of  talents  in  this  country,  my  clear 
S*******,  have  been  generally  bred  to  the 
profession  of  the  law  ;  and  indeed,  through- 
out the  United  States,  I  have  met  with  few- 
persons  of  exalted  intellect,  whose  powers 
have  been  directed  to  any  other  pursuit. 
The  bar,  in  America,  is  the  road  to  honour ; 
and  hence,  although  the  profession  is  graced 
by  the  most  shining  geniuses  on  the  continent, 
it  is  encumbered  also  by  a  melancholy  group 
of  young  men  who  hang  on  the  rear  of  the 
bar,  like  Goethe's  sable  clouds  in  the  wrestern 
horizon.  I  have  been  told  that  the  bar  of 
Virginia  wTas  a  few  years  ago  pronounced,  by 
the  Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States,  to 
be  the  most  enlightened  and  able  on  the  Con- 
tment.  lam  very  incompetent  to  decide  on 
the  merit  of  their  legal  acquirements  ;  but, 
putting  aside  the  partiality  of  a  Briton,  I  do 
not  think  either  of  the  gentlemen  by  any 
means  so  eloquent  or  so  erudite  as  our  coun- 
tryman, Erskine.  With  your  permission, 
however,  I  will  make  you  better  acquainted 


BRITISH  SPY.  59 

with  the  few  characters  who  lead  the  van  of 
the  profession. 

jyfr  ********  h^  great  personal  advanta- 
ges, a  figure  large  and  portly  ;  his  features 
uncommonly  fine ;  his  whole  countenance 
lighted  up  with  an  expression  of  the  most 
conciliating  sensibility ;  his  attitudes  dignified 
and  commanding  ;  his  gestures  easy  and 
graceful ;  his  voice  perfect  harmony  ;  and 
his  whole  manner  that  of  an  accomplished  and 
engaging  gentleman.  I  have  reason  to  be- 
lieve that  the  expression  of  his  countenance 
does  no  more  than  justice  to  his  heart.  If  I 
am  correctly  informed,  his  feelings  are  ex- 
quisite ;  and  the  proofs  of  his  benevolence 
are  various  and  clear  beyond  the  possibility 
of  doubt.  He  has  filled  the  highest  offices  in 
this  commonwealth,  and  has  very  long  main- 
tained a  most  respectable  rank  in  his  profes- 
sion. His  character,  with  the  people,  is  that 
of  a  great  lawyer  and  an  eloquent  speaker  ; 
— and,  indeed  so  many  men  of  discernment 
and  taste  entertain  this  opinion,  and  my 
prepossessions  in  his  favour  are  so  strong  on 
account  of  the  amiable  qualities  of  his  char- 
acter, that  I  am  very  well  disposed  to  doubt 
the  accuracy  of  my  own  judgment  as  it  re- 
lates to  him. 

To  me,  however,  it  seems  that  his  mind,  as 
is  often,  but  not  invariably  the  case,  corres- 
ponds with  his  personal  appearance  ;  that  it 
is  turned  rather  for  ornament  than  for  severe 
use.     His  speeches,  I  think,  deserve  the  cen- 


60  BRITISH  SPY. 

sure  which  Lord  Verulam  pronounces  on  the 
writers,  posterior  to  the  reformation  of  the 
church.  "  Luther,"  says  he,  "  standing  a- 
lone  against  the  church  of  Rome,  found  it 
necessary  to  awake  all  antiquity  in  his  behalf; 
this  introduced  the  study  of  the  dead  lan- 
guages, a  taste  for  the  fulness  of  the  Cicero- 
nian manner,  and  hence  the  still  prevalent 
error  of  hunting  more  after  the  choiceness  of 
the  phrase  and  the  round  and  clean  compo- 
sition of  the  sentence,  and  the  sweet  fallings 
of  the  clauses,  and  the  varying  and  illustra- 
tion of  their  works  with  tropes  and  figures, 
than  after  the  weight  of  matter,  worth  of  sub- 
ject, soundness  of  argument,  life  of  invention, 
or  depth  of  judgment."  Mr. 's  tem- 
per and  habits  lead  him  to  the  swelling, stately 
manner  of  Bolingbroke ;  but  either  from 
want  of  promptitude  and  richness  of  concep- 
tion, or  his  sedulous  concern  ami  "  hunting 
after  words,"  he  does  not  maintain  that  man- 
ner smo  jthly  and  happily. — On  the  contrary, 
the  spirits  of  his  hearers,  after  having  been 
awakened  and  put  into  sweet  and  pleasant 
motion,  have  their  tide  not  unfrequently 
checked,  ru^ed  and  painfully  obstructed,  by 
the  hesitation  and  perplexity  of  the  speaker. 
It  certainly  must  demand,  my  g*******^  a 
mind  of  very  high  powers  to  support  the 
swell  of  Bolingbroke,  with  felicity.  The 
tones  of  voice  which  naturally  belong  to  it, 
keep  the  expectation  continually  "  on  tip- 
toe ;"  and  this  must  be  gratified  not  only  by 


BRITISH  SPY.  61 

the  most  oily  fluency,  but  by  a  force  of  ar- 
gument, clear  as  light,  and  an  alternate  play 
of  imagination  as  grand  and  magnificent  as 
Herschell's  dance  of  the  sidereal  system. — 

The  work  requires  to  be  perpetually  urg- 
ed forward.  One  interruption  in  the  cur- 
rent of  the  language — one  poor  thought  or 
abortion  of  fancy — one  vacant  aversion  of  the 
eye  or  relaxation  in  the  expression  of  face, 
entirely  breaks  and  dissolves  the  whole  charm. 
The  speaker,  indeed,  may  go  on  and  evolve, 
here  and  there,  a  pretty  thought  ;  but  the 
wondrous  magick  of  the  whole,  is  gone  for- 
ever. 

Whether  it  be  from  any  defect  in  the  or- 
ganization of  Mr. -'s  mind,  or  that  his 

passion  for  the  fine  dress  of  his  thoughts, 
is  the  master  passion,  which  like  "  Aaron's 
serpent,  swallows  up  the  rest,"  I  will  not  un- 
dertake to  decide  ;  but  perhaps  it  results 
from  one  of  those  two  causes,  that  all  the  ar- 
guments which  I  have  ever  heard  from  him, 
are  defective  in  that  important  and  most  ma- 
terial character,  the  lucidiis  ordo.  I  have 
been  sometimes  inclined  to  believe  that  a 
man's  division  of  his  argumer  should  be 
generally  found  to  contain  a  secret  history 
of  the  difficulties  which  he  himself  has  en- 
countered in  the  investigation  of  his  subject. 
I  am  firmly  persuaded,  that  the  extreme 
prolixity  of  many  discourses  to  which  we  are 
doomed  to  listen, is  chargeable  not  to  the  fer- 
tility, but  to  the  darkness  and  impotence 
H 


BRITISH  SPY. 

of  the  brain  which  produces  them,     A  mai 
who  sees  his  object  in  a  strong  light,  march 
e,s  directly  up  to   it  in  a  right   line,  with  tin 
iirm  step  of  a  soldier  ;   while  another,  resid 
frig  in  a  less  illumined    zone,    wanders   anc 
reels  in  the  twilight  of  the  brain,  and  ere  he 
attains  his  object,  treads  a  maze  as  intricate 
arid  perplexing  as  that  of  the  celebrated  laby- 
rinth of  Crete.     It   wTas  remarkable   of  the 
**  *******  of  the  United  States, whom] 
mentioned  to  you  in  a  former  fetter  as  looking 
through  a  subject  at  a  glance,  that  he  almost 
invariably  seized  one  strong  point  only,  the 
pivot  of  the  controversy  ;  this  point  he  would 
enforce  with  all  his  power,  never  permitting 
his  own  mind  to  waver,  nor  obscuring  those 
of  the  hearers,  by  a  cloud  of  inferior,  unim- 
portant considerations.     But  this  is  not   the 
manner  of  Mr.  ********?     I  suspect,  that  in 
the  preparatory  investigation  of  a  subject,  he 
gains  his  ground  by  slow  and  laborious  gra- 
dations, and  that  his  difficulties  are   numer- 
ous and  embarrassing. 

Hence  it  is,  perhaps,  that  his  points  are 
generally  too  multifarious  ;  and  although  a- 
mong  the  rest  he  exhibits  the  strong  point, 
its  appearance  is -too  often  like  that  of  Issa- 
char,  "  bowed  down  between  two  burdens."! 
I  take  this  to  be  a  very  ill  judged  method.  It 
may  serve  indeed  to  make  the  multitude  stare, 
butit  frustrates  thegreatpurpose  of  the  speak- 
er. Instead  of  giving  a  simple,  lucid  and  an- 
imated view  of  a  subject,   it  overloads,  con- 


BRITISH  SPY.  $3 

rounds  and  fatigues  the  listener.  Instead  of 
paving  him  the  vivacity  of  clear  and  full  con- 
'iction,  it  leaves  him  wildered,  darkling,  a- 
leep  ;  and  when  he  awakes,  he 

" — Wakes  emerging  from  a  sea  of  dreams, 

<l  tumultuous  ;  where  his  wreek'd  desponding  thought^ 

u  from  wave  to  wave  of  wild  uncertainty 

"  at  random  drove,  her  helm  of  reason  lost." 

I  incline  to  believe  that  if  there  be  a  blem- 
sh  in  the  mind  of  this  amiable  gentleman,  it 
s  the  want  of  a  strong  and  masculine  iudg- 
nent.  If  such  an  agent  had  wielded  the  seep- 
re  of  his  understanding,  it  is  presumable  th at' 
ire  this,  it  would  have  chastised  his  exuberant 
bndness  for  literary  finery,  and  unfortunate: 
mrade  of  points  in   his  argument,  on  which 

have  commented.  If  I  may  confide  in  the 
eplies  which  I  have  heard  given  to  him  at 
he  bar,  this  want  of  judgment  is  sometimes 
nanifested  in  his  selection  and  application  of 
he  law  cases.  But  of  this  I  can  judge, only  from 
he  triumphant  air  with  which  his  adversaries 
»eizehis  cases ;  and  appear  to  turn  them  against 
iim,  He  is  certainly  a  man  of  close  and  e- 
aborate  research.  It  would  seem  to  me,  how 
iver,  my  dear  S*******j  that  in  order  to 
constitute  a  scientifick  lawyer,  something 
more  is  necessary  than   the   patient   and  the 

rsevering  revolution  of  the  leaves  of  an  au- 
thor. Does  it  not  require  a  discernment  suf- 
ficiently clear  and  strong  to  eviscerate  the 
principles  of  each  case;  a  judgment  potent 


64  BRITISH  SPY. 

enough  to  digest,  connect  and  systematize  i 
them,  and  to  distinguish  at  once,  in  any  fu- 
ture combination  of  circumstances,  the  feat- 
ure which  gives  or  refuses  to  a  principle  a 
just  application.— Without  such  intellectual 
properties,  I  should  conjecture  (for  on  this 
Subject  I  can  only  conjecture)  that  a  man 
could  not  have  the  fair  advantage  and  per- 
fect command  of  his  reading.  For  in  the 
lirst  place,  I  should  apprehend  that  he  would 
never  discover  the  application  of  a  case, 
without  the  reoccurrence  of  all  the  same  cir- 
cumstances ;  in  the  next  place  that  his  cases 
would  form  a  perfect  chaos,  a  rudis  indigesta- 
que  moles,  in  his  brains  ;  and  lastly  that  he 
would  often,  and  sometimes  perhaps  fatally, 
mistake  the  ^identifying  feature,  and  furnish 
his  antagonist  with  a  formidable  weapon  a* 
gainst  himself. 

But  let  me  fly  from  this  entangled  wilder- 
ness of  which  I  have  so  little  knowledge,  and 
conclude  with  Mr  ********  Although  when 
brought  to  the  standard,  of  perfect  oratory, 
he  may  be  subject  to  the  censures  I  have  pas- 
sed on  him  ;  yet  it  is  to  be  acknowledge^, 
and  I  make  the  acknowledgment  with  pleas- 
ure, that  he  is  a  man  of  extensive  reading,  a 
well  informed  lawyer,  a  fine  belles  lettres 
scholar,  and  sometimes  a  beautiful  speaker. 

LETTER  Vllh 


BRITISH    SPY. 


Letter  viii. 


JAMESTOWN,  SEPTEMBER  27. 

I  HAVE  taken  a  pleasant  ride  of  sixty  miles 
own  the  river,  in  order, my  dear  S******4*, 
n  see  the  remains  of  the  first  English  settle- 
ment in  Virginia.  The  site  is  a  very  hand- 
ome  one. — The  river  is  three  miles  broad  ; 
,nd,  on  the  opposite  shore,  the  country  pre- 
ents  a  fine  range  of  bold  and  beautiful  hills. 
But  I  find  no  vestiges  of  the  ancient  town,  ex- 
cept the  ruins  of  a  church  steeple^  and  a  dis- 
>rdered  group  of  old  tomb  stones.  On  one 
)f  these,  shaded  by  the  boughs  of  a  tree 
diose  trunk  has  embraced  and  grown  over 
he  edge  of  the  stone,  and  seated  on  the  head- 
tone  of  another  grave,  I  now  address  you. 
iVh-dt  a  moment  for  a  lugubrious  meditation 
unong  the  tombs  ;  but  fear  not ;  I  have  nei- 
;her  the  temper  nor  the  genius  of  a  Harvey  : 
md,  as  much  as  I  revere  his  pious  memory, 
[  cannot  envy  him  the  possession  of  such  a 
genius  and  such  a  temper.  For  my  own 
part,  I  would  not  have  suffered  the  mournful 
Measure  of  writing  this  book  and  Dr.  Young's 
Night  Thoughts,  for  all  the  just  fame  whic.U 


66  BRITISH  SPY. 

they  both  have  gained   by  those  celebrate 
productions — much    rather    would   I    ha1! 
danced  and  sung  and  played  the  fiddle  wit 
Yorick  through  thewhindsical  pages  of  Tri: 
tram  Shandy  ;  that  book   which  every     od 
justly  censures  and   admires  alternately,  ^n 
which  will  continue  to  be  read,  abused   an 
devoured,  with  ever  fresh  delight,  as  long  a 
the  world  shall  relish  a  joyous  laugh,  or 
tear  of  the  most  delicious  feeling.     By   th 
bye,  here,  on  one  side,  is  an  inscription   on  i 
grave  stone,  which  would  constitute   no  bac 
theme  for  an  occasional  meditation  from  Yor- 
ick  himself.     The  stone,   it  seems,   cover; 
the  grave  of  a  man    who   was  born   in   th( 
neighbourhood  of  London  ;  and  his   epitapl  I 
concludes  the  short  and  rudely  executed  ac- 
count of  his  |)irth  and  death,   by   declaring 
him  to  have  been  "  a  great  sinner,  in  hopes 
of  a  joyful  resurrection  ;"  as  if  he  had  sinned, 
with  nb  other  intention,  than  to  give  himself 
a  fair  title  to  these  exulting   hopes.     But 
awkwardly  and  ludicrously  as  the  sentiment 
is  expressed,  it  is,  in  its   meaning,    most  just 
and  beautiful ;  as  it  acknowledges  the  bound- 
less mercy  of  Heaven,   and  glances   at  that 
divinely  consoling  proclamation,  "  come  un- 
"  to  me,  all  ye  who  are  weary  and  heavy  la- 
"  den,  p,nd  I  will  give  you  rest." 

The  ruin  of  the  steeple  is  about  thirty  feet 
high  and  mantled  to  its  ver}r  summit  with 
ivy.  It  is  difficult  to  look  at  this  venerable 
^object,  surrounded  as  it  is    with  these  awful 


BRITISH  SPY.  67 

roofs  of  the  mortality  of  man,  without  ex- 
laiming  in  the  pathetick  solemnity  of  our 
hakespeare, 

r    .3  cloud-capt  towers — the  gorgeous  palaces — 
...  ae  solemn  temples — the  great  globe  itself — 
.  yea,  all  which  it  inherit  shall  dissolve  : 

and,  like  this  unsubstantial  pageant  faded, 

leave  not  a  wreck  behind. 

Whence,  my  dear  S*******,  arises  the  ir- 
spressiWe  reverence  and  tender  affection 
ith  which  I  look  at  this  broken  steeple  ?  It 
%  that  my  soul,  by  a  secret,  subtle  process,  in- 
ests  the  mouldering  ruin  with  her  own  pow- 
rs  ;  imagines  it  a  fellow  being  ;  a  venerable 
Id  man  ;  a  Nestor,  or  an  Ossian,  who  has 
witnessed  and  survived  the  ravages  ofsucces- 
ive  generations,  the  companions  of  his  youth 
nd  of  his  maturity,  and  now  mourns  his  own 
oiitary  and  desolate  condition,  and  hails 
heir  spirits  in  every  passing  cloud  ?  Whaf- 
ver  may  be  the  cause,  as  I  look  at  it,  I  feel 
Sy  soul  drawn  forward,  as  bv  the  cords  of 
;entlest  sympathy,  and  involuntarily  open 
ay  lips  to  offer  consolation  to  the  drooping 
rile. 

Where,  my  S******^  is  the  busy  bust- 
ing croud  which  landed  here  two  hundred 
ears  ago  ! — Where  is  Smith,  that  pink  of 
gallantry,  that  flower  of  chivalry  ?  I  fancy 
hat  I  can  see  their  first  slow  and  cautious  ap- 
proach to  the  shore  ;  their  keen  and  vigilant 
yes  piercing  the  forest  in  every  direction,  to 


BRITISH  SVY, 


to 


detect  the  lurking  Indian,   with   his  ton 
hawkj   bow  and   arrow. — Good     Hearen 
What  an  enterprize  ! — How  full  of  the  m<  | 
fearful  perils  ;  and  yet  how  entirely  profith 
to  the  daring  men  who  personally  underto 
and  atchieved  it !!    Through  what  a  series 
the  most  spirit  chilling  hardships  had  they 
toil  ?     How  often  did  they  cast  their  eyes 
England  in  vain    ;  and   with   what   delusi    ' 
hopes,  day  after  day,  did  the  little  famishu 
crew  strain  their  sight  to  caXch  the  white  Sc 
©f  comfort  and  relief  !     But  day   after   da; 
the  sun  sat  and  darkness  covered  the  earth 
but  no  sail  of  comfort  or  relief  came.     Ho 
often  in  the  pangs  of  hunger,  sickness,   sol 
tude  and   disconsolation,  did  they   think  ( 
London  ;  her  shops,  her  markets  groaning  ur 
der  the  weight  of  plenty,  her  streets  swarn: 
ing  with  gilded  coaches,  bustling  hacks  an 
with  crouds  of  lords,   dukes   and    common 
with  healthy,  busy  contented  faces,  of  ever 
description,   and   among  them    none  mon 
healthy  or   more   contented   than  those   o 
their  ungrateful   and  improvident  directors 
But  now — where   are   they,   all — the  litth 
famished  colony  which  landed  here,  and  the 
many  coloured  croud  of  London — where  ar* 
they,  my   dear  S*******  ?    Gone,    where 
there   is   no   distinction  ;    consigned  to  the 
common   earth.      Another   generation   suc- 
ceeded them  ;  which,  just   as  busy  and  as 
bustling  as  that  which  fell  before  it,  hassunk 
down  into  the  same  nothingness. — -Another 


BRITISH  SPY.  C9 

^tnd  yet  another  billow  has  rolled  on,  each 
rnulating  its  predecessor  in  height ;  tower- 
ng,  for  its  moment,  and  curling  its  foaming 
lonours  to  the  clouds,  men  roaring,  break- 
ng  and  perishing  on  the  same  shores. 

Is  it  not  strange  that,  familiarly  and  uni- 

ersally  as   these   things    are  known,  each 

generation  is  as    eager   in   the  pursuit   of 

ts  earthly  object*,  projects  its  plan  on  a  scale 

ets  extensive,  and  labours  in   their  execution 

with   a  spirit  as  ardent  and  unrelaxing  as  if 

his  life  and  this  world  were  to  last  for  ever  ? 

It  is  indeed  a  most  benevolent  interposi- 
ion  of  Providence,  that  these  palpable  and 
ust  views  of  the  vanity  of  human  life,  are 
C)ot  permitted  entirely  to  crush  the  spirits  and 
Unnerve  the  arm  of  industry.  But  at  tha 
tyame  time,  methinks  it  would  be  wise  in  man 
o  permit  them  to  have>  at  least,  so  much 
-veight  with  him  as  to  prevent  his  total  ab- 
;orption  by  the  things  of  this  earth,  and  to 
ooint  some  of  his  thoughts  and  his  exertions 
o  a  system  of  being,  far  more  permanent, 
exalted  and  happy.  Think  not  this  reflec- 
tion too  solemn.  It  is  irresistibly  inspired  by 
:he  objects  around  me,  and,  as  rarely  as  it 
jccurs  (much  too  rarely)  it  is  most  certainly 
md  solemnly  true,  my  S^******. 

It  is  curious  to  reflect  what  a  nation  in  the 
ourse  of  two  hundred  years,  has  sprung  up 
ind  flourished  from  the  feeble,  sickly  germ 
trhich  was  planted  here  !  Little  did  our  short- 
sighted court  suspect  the  conflict  which  sire 
I 


•ZO  BRITISH  SPY. 

-was  preparing  for  herself  ;  the  convulsii 
throe  by  which  her  infant  colony  would,  i 
a  few  years,  burst  from  her,  and  start  into  i 
political  importance  that  would  astonish  ti 
earth  !— But  Virginia,  my  dear  S******^ 
as  rapidly  as  her  population  and  her  wealt 
must  continue  to  advance,  wants  one  mo 
important  sourse  of  solid  grandeur  ;  and  tha 
too,  the  animating  soul  of  a  republick. 
mean, public  spirit,  that  sacred  armor  patria 
Tvhich  filled  Greece  and  Rome  with  patriots 
heroes  and  scholars.  There  seems  to  me  t 
be  but  one  object  throughout  the  state  ;  I 
grow  rich  ;  a  passion  which  is  visible  not  on 
\y  in  the  walks  of  private  life,  but  which  ha 
crept  into  and  poisoned  every  public  bod; 
in  the  state.  Indeed  from  the  very  geniu 
of  the  government,  by  which  all  the  public! 
characters  are  at  short,  periodical  elections 
evolved  from  the  body  of  the  people,  it  can 
not  but  happen  that  the  councils  of  the  stat< 
must  take  the  impulse  of  the  private  propen  j 
sities  of  the  country. — Hence  Virginia  exhib 
its  no  great  publick  improvements  ;  hence,  ir 
spite  of  her  wealth,  every  part  of  the  conn 
try  manifests  her  sufferings  either  from  tht 
penury  of  her  guardians,  or  their  want  o; 
that  attention,  and  noljle  pride  wherewith  i 
is  their  duty  to  consult  her  appearance.  Hei 
roads  and  highways  are  frequently  impassa- 
ble, sometimes  frightful — the  very  few  pub- 
lick  works  which  have  been  set  on  foot,  in- 
stead of  being  carried  on  with  spirit,  are  pej- 


BRITISH  SPY.  71 

fitted  to  languish  and  pine  and  creep  feebly 
long,  in  such  a  manner  that  the  first  part  of 
n  edifice  grows  grey  with  age  and  almost 
humbles  in  ruins,  before  the  last  part  is  lifted 
*rom  the  dust — highest  offices  are  sustained 
idth  so  avaricious,  so  nigardly  a  hand,  that 
:?  they  are  not  driven  to  subsist  on  roots,  and 
brink  ditch  water  with  old  Fabricus,  it  is  not 
or  the  want  of  republican  economy  in  the 
jrojectors  of  the  salaries — and,  above  all,  the 
;eneral  culture  of  the  human  mind,  that  best 
ure  for  the  aristocratick  distinctions  which 
hey  profess  to  love  ;  this  culture,  instead  of 
»ecoming  a  national  care,  is  entrusted  mere- 
v  to  such  individuals  as  hazard,  indigence, 
nisfortunes  or  crimes,  have  f  orcedfrom  their 
lative  Europe  to  seek  an  asylum  and  bread  in 
he  wilds  of  America.  They  have  only  one 
)ublick  seminary  of  learning  ;  a  college  at 
rVilliamsburg,  about  seven  miles  from  this 
>lace,  which  was  erected  in  the  reign  of  our 
William  and  Mary,  and  bears  their  name. 
This  college,  in  the  fastidious  folly  and  af- 
ectation  of  republicanism,  they  have  en- 
lowed  with  a  few  despicable  fragments  of 
•urveyor's  fees,  &c.  converting  a  body  of 
Dolite,  scientifick  and  highly  respectable  pro- 
cessors, into  a  shop  board  of  contemptible 
•abbaging  taylors. 

And,  then,  instead  of  aiding  and  energiz- 
ng  the  police  of  the  college,  by  a  few  civil 
regulations, permitting  their  youth  to  run  and 
iot  in  all  the  wildness  of  dissipation  ;   while 


72  BRITISH  SPY. 

the  venerable  professors  are  forced  to  look  01 
in  the  deep  mortification  of  conscious  impo 
tence,  and  see  their  care  and  zeal  requited 
by  the  ruin  of  their  pupils  and  the  destruc 
tion  of  their  seminary.  These  are  point 
•which,  at  present,  I  can  barely  touch  ;  whei 
I  have  an  easier  seat  and  writing  desk,  than  ; 
grave  and  a  tomb  stone,  it  will  give  me  pleas 
lire  to  dilate  on  them  ;  for  it  will  afford  at 
opportunity  of  exulting  in  the  superiority  oi 
our  own  energetick  monarchy  over  this  re 
publican  body  without  a  soul. 

For  the  present,  my  dear  S*******,  I  bk 
you  adieu. 


-:::-*#**###**#*#* 


LETTER  4^- 


BRITISH    SPY. 


LETTER    IX. 


RICHMOND,  OCTOBER  30. 

TALENTS,  my  dear  &—•**,  ttfietw) 

ii  they  have  had  a  suitable  theatre,  have  nev- 
\t  failed  to  emerge  from  obscurity  and  as- 
ume  their  proper  rank  in  the  estimation  oi 
he  world.  The  celebrated  Camden  is  said 
o  have  been  the  tenant  of  a  garret.  Yet 
Yarn  the  darkness,  poverty  and  ignominy  oi 
his  residence,  he  advanced  to  distinction  and 
.vealth,  and  graced  the  first  offices  and  title? 
~>f  our  island. — It  is  impossible  to  turn  ovei 
be  British  Biography  without  being  struck 
ind  charmed  by  the  multitude  of  correspond -t 
»nt  examples  ;  a  venerable  groupe  of  ncvi 
homines  as  the  Romans  called  them  ;  men, 
who,  from  the  lowest  depths  of  obscurity 
and  want,  and  without  even  the  influence  oi; 
a  patron,  have  risen  to  the  first  honours  oi 
their  country,  and  founded  their  own  fami-t 
lies  anew.  In  every  nacion  and  in  everv 
age,  great  talents,  thrown  fairly  into  tlu, 
point  of  publick  observation,  will,  invariably 
produce  the  same  ultimate  effect.  Thv 
fealous  pride  of  power  may  attempt  to  re- 


1 


IS 

in 

in 

t 

oi 


i 


74  BRITISH  SPY. 

press  and  crush  them  ;  the  base  and  malig|  |j 
nant  rancour  of  impotent  spleen  and   env;| 
may  strive   to   embarrass   and  retard  thei 
flight :  but  these  efforts,  so  far  from  atchiev 
ing  their  ignoble  purpose,  so  far  from  pro 
ducing  a  discernible  obliquity  in  the  ascen 
of  genuine   and  vigorous  talents,  will  servt 
only  to  increase  their  momentum  and  marl 
their  transit  with  an  additional  stream  of  glo 
ry.     When  the  great  earl   of  Chatham   firs 
made  his  appearance   in  our  house  of  Com 
mons,  and  began   to  astonish  and  transpon 
the  British  Parliament  and  the  British  nation, 
by  the  boldness,  the  force,  and   range  of  his, 
thoughts,  and  the  celestial  fire  and  pathos  oi| 
his  eloquence,  it  is  well  known  that  the  min- 
ister, Walpole,  and  his  brother  Horace  (from 
motives  very  easily   understood)  exerted   all 
their  wit,  ail  their  oratory,  all  their  acquire 
ments  of  every  description,  sustained  and  en- 
forced by  the  unfeeling  "  insolence  of  office," 
to  heave  a  mountain  on  his  gigantick  geniusi 
and  hide  it  from  the  world.     Poor  and  pow-i 
erless   attempt  ! — The  tables  were   turned.) 
He  rose  upon  them  in  the  might  and  irresist-i 
ible  energy  of  his  genius,  and  in  spite  of  all 
their  convolutions,    frantick   agonies     and 
spasms,  he  strangled  them  and  their  whole  fac- 
tion with  as  much  ease ,as Hercules  did  the  ser- 
pent Python.     Who  can   turnover   the   de- 
bates of  the  day,    and  read    the   account  of 
this  conflict  between   youthful   ardour  and 
hoary  hsadad  cunning  and  power,  without' 


BRITISH  SPY.  75 

?  indling  in  the  cause  of  the  tyro  and  shout- 
%g  at  his  victory  ?  That   they  should   have 
Attempted  to  pass  off  the   grand,   yet   solid 
v  ud  judicious  operation   of  a  mind  like   his, 
Is  being  mere  theatrical  start  and  emotion  ; 
lie  giddy,  hair-brained  eccentricities  of  a  ro- 
T(iantickboy  !  That  they   should   have   the 
r*  resumption  to  suppose  themselves   capable 
°"f  chaining  down  to  the  floor  of  the   parlia- 
ment, a  genius   so  etherial,    towering,  and 
tttiblime!  Why  did   they  not,  in  the  next 
rtreath,  by  way  of  crowning  the   climax  of 
]i  anity ,  bid  the  magnificent   fire-ball  to  de- 
fend from  its  exalted   and   appropriate  re- 
ion,  and  perform  its  splendid  tour  along  the 
nrface  of  the  earth  ?*  When  the  son  of  this 
reat  man,  too,  our  present  minister,  and  his 
ompeer  and  rival,  our  friend,  first  commenc- 

*  See  a  beautiful  note  in  Darwin's  Botanick  Garden,  in 
fhich  the  writer  suggests  the  probability  of  three  concen- 
ic  strata  of  our  atmosphere,  in  which,  or  between  them, 
re  produced  four  kind  of  meteors  ;  in  the  lowest  the  com- 
lon  lightning  ;  in  the  next,  shooting  stars  ;  and  the  high- 
st  region,  which  he  supposes  to  consist  of  inflammable 
as,  tenfold  lighter  than  the  common atmospherick  air,  he 
aakes  the  theatre   of  the  northern  light,    and  fire  ball  or 

ace  volans.  He  recites  the  history  of  one  of  the  latter, 
een  in  the  year  1768,  which  was  estimated  to  have  been 
mile  and  a  half  in  circumference  ;  to  have  been  100  miles 
Ligh,  and  to  have  moved  30  miles  in  a  second.  It  had  a 
eal  tail  many  miles  long,  which  threw  off  sparks  in  its 
iourse,  and  the  whole  exploded  like  that  of  distant  thun- 
ler.     Bot.  Garden.  Part  1.  add.  note  I. 


76  BRITISH  SPY. 


ed  their  political  career,  the  publick  pape 
teemed  wish  strictures  on  their  respective  ta 
ents  ;  the  first  was  censured  as  being  merei 
a  dry  and  even   a  slimsy  reasoner  ;    the  la 
was  stigmatized  as  an  empty  declaimer.    Bi 
errour    and   misrepresentation    soon   expii 
and  are  forgotten :  while  truth   rises   upc 
their  ruins  and  "  flourishes  in  eternal  youth. 
Thus  the  false,  the  light,  fugacious   newsp< 
per  criticisms  which  attempted  to  dissect  an 
censure  the  arrangement  of  those  gentlemen 
talents,  have  been  long  since  swept  away  b 
the  besom  of  oblivion.  They  wanted  Truth 
that  soul,  which  alone,  can  secure  immortal 
ity  from  any    literary  work.     And   Mr.  Pit 
and  Mr.  Fox  have,  for  many  years,  been,  re  I 
ciprocally  and  alternately  recognized,  just  a 
their  subject  demands  it,  either  as  close  ant 
cogent  reasoners  or  <is  beautiful   and  superl 
rhetoricians.     Talents,  therefore,  which  an 
before  the  publick,  have   nothing   to  dreac 
either  from    the  jealous   pride   of  power,  o; 
from  the  transient  misrepresentations  of  par- 
tv,  spleen,  or  envy.     In  spite  of  oppression 
from  any  cause,  their  buoyant  spirit  will  lift 
them  to  their  proper  grade— it  will  be  unjust 
that  it  should  lift  them  higher. 

It  is  true  there  always  are  and  always  wijj 
be  in  every  society,  individuals,  who  will  fan? 
cy  themselves  examples  of  genius  overlook- 
ed, under-rated  or  invidiously  oppressed. 
But  the  misfortune  of  such  persons  is  imput- 
able to  their  own  vanity,  and  not  to  the  pub* 


BRITISH  SPY.  fi 

lick  opinion  which  has  weighed  and  gradu- 
ated them.  We  remember  many  of  our 
school  mates  whose  geniuses  bloomed  and 
died  within  the  walls  of  alma  mater  ;  but 
ivhose  bodies  still  live,  the  jnoving  monu- 
ments of  departed  splendour,  the  animated 
ind  affecting  remembrances  of  the  extreme 
Vagility  of  the  human  intellect.  We  re- 
member others  who  have  entered  on  publick 
ire  with  the  most  exulting  promise  ;  have 
town  from  the  earth,  like  rockets  ;  and  after 
i  short  and  brilliant  flight ;  have  bursted  with 
mc  or  two  explosions.... to  blaze  no  more. 

Others  by  a  few  premature  scintillations  of 
;hought  have  led  themselves  and  their  partial 
riends  to  hope  that  they  were  fast  advancing 
o  a  dawn  of  soft  and  beauteous  light  and  a 
neridian  of  bngbt  and  gorgeous  effulgence. 
3ut  their  day  has  never  yet  broken,  and  nev- 
r  will  it  it  break.     They  are  doomed  forev- 
r  to  that  dim,  crepuscular  light  which  sur- 
ounds  the  frozen  poles,  when  the  sun  has  re- 
reated  to  the  opposite  circle  of  the  heavens. 
Their's    is   the   eternal   glimmering    of  the 
>rain  ;  and  their  most   luminous  displays  are 
he  faint  twinklings  of  the  glow-worm.     We 
^ave  seen  others,  who,  at  their  start,  gain  a 
asual  projectility  which  raises   them   above, 
leir  proper  grade  ;   but,  by  the  just   opera- 
Ion  of  their  specifick  gravity,  they  are  made 
p  subside  again  and  settle  ultimately  in  the 
Iphere  to  which  they  properly  belong.     All 
lese  characters,  and  many  others  who  have 


IS  BRITISH  SPY. 

had  even  slighter  bases  for  their  once  san- 
guine, but  now  blasted  hopes,  form  a  queru- 
lous and  melancholy  band   of  moon-struck 
declaimers  against  the  injustice  of  the  world, 
the  agency  of  envy,  the  force  of  destiny,  &c. 
charging  their  misfortune  on  every  thing  but 
the  true  cause  :  their  own  want  of  intrinsick, 
sterling  merit ;   their  want  of  that   copious, 
perennial  spring  of  great  and,  useful  thought, 
without  which  a  man  may  hope  in    vain,  for 
growing  reputation. — Nor  are   they   always 
satisfied    with  'wailing  their  own   destiny, 
pouring  out  the  bitterest  imprecations  of  their 
souls  on  the   cruel  stars   which   presided    at 
their  birth,  and  aspersing  the  justice  of  the 
publick  opinion  which  has  scaled  them  :  too- 
often  in  the  contortions   and  pangs  of  disap- 
pointed ambition,  they  cast  a  scowling  eye 
over    the   world    of  man — start   back,   and 
blanche  at  the  lustre  of  superiour  merit — and 
exert  all  the  diabolical  incantations  of  their 
black  art  to  conjure   up  an  impervious  va- 
pour, in  order  to  shroud  its  glories  from   the 
vrorld.     But  it  is  all  in  vain.     In  spite  of  evi 
ery  thing,  the  publick  opinion  will  finally  d& 
justice  to  us  all.     The  man  who   comes  fair- 
ly before  the  world,   and  who  possesses   thm 
gfe&i  and  vigorous  stamina  which  entitle  him 
to  a  niche  in   the  temple   of  glory,   has  no- 
reason  to  dread  the  ultimate  result ;  howev- 
er slow  his  progress  may  be,   he  will,  in  the: 
•end,  most  indubitably   receive  that  distinc- 
tion.    While  the  rest,  "  the  swallows  of  sci-» 


] 


BRITISH  SP?.  7» 

ence,"  the  butterflies  of  genius   may   flutter 
for  their  spring  ;  but  they  will  soon  pass  away 
and  be   remembered    no   more.     No    enter- 
prizing  man,  therefore,  (and,  least  of  all,  the 
ruly  great  man)  has  reason  to  droop,  or  re- 
pine at  any  efforts  which  he  may  suppose  to 
3e  made  with  the  view  to  depress  him  ;  since 
le  may  rely  on  the  universal  and  unchanging 
ruth,  that   talents,   which    are   before   the 
oriel,  will  most  inevitably  find  their  proper 
evel  ;  and   this  is   certainly   all  that  a  just 
nan  should  desire. Let  then,  the  temp- 
est of  envy  or  malice  howl  around  him.    I  lis 
jenius  will  consecrate  him  ;  <md  any  attempt 
o  extinguish  that,  will  be  as  unavailing  as 
rould  a  human  effort  "  to  quench  the  stars." 
I  have  been  led  farther  into   these   reflec- 
ions  than  I  had  anticipated.     The  train  was 
tarted  by  casting  my  eyes  over  Virginia  ;  ob- 
erving  the  very  few  who  have  advanced   on 
he  theatre  of  publick   observation,  and   the 
ery  many  who  will  remain   forever  behind 
he  scenes.    What  frequent  instances  of  high, 
iative  genius,  have  I   seen  springing  in  the 
irildnernesses  of  this  country  ;  genius,  whose 
'ossoms    the   light  of  science  have   never 
lourled  into   expansion  ;    genius   which    is 
loomed  to  fall  and  die,  far  from  the  notice 
nd  the  haunts  of  men  !  How  often,  as  I  have 
eld  my  way  through  the  western  forests  of 
lis  state,  and  reflected  on  the  vigorous  shoots 
f  superiour  intellect   which    were    freezing 
nd  perishing  there  for  want  of  culture — how 


80  BRITISH  SPY. 

often  have  I  recalled  the  moment  when  o 
pathetick  Gray,  reclining  under  the  mou 
dering  elm  of  his  country  church  yard,  whi 
the  sigh  of  genial  sympathy  broke  from  h 
heart,  aud  the  tear  of  noble  pity  started  in  h 
eye,  exclaimed, 

"  Perhaps  in  this  neglected  spot  is  laid 

some  heart  once  pregnant  with  celestial  fire, 

hands  that  the  rod  of  empire  might  have  sway'd, 
or  wak'd  to  ecstacy  the  living  lyre. 

But  knowledge  to  their  eyes,  her  ample  page, 
rich  with  the  spoils  of  time,  did  ne'er  unrol ; 

chill  penury  repress'd  their  noble  rage, 
and  froze  the  genial  current  of  their  soul. 

Full  many  a  gem  of  purest  ray  serene, 

the  dark,  unfathom'd  waves  of  ocean  bear ; 

full  many  a  flow'r  is  born  to  blush,  unseen, 
and  waste  its  sweetness  on  the  desert  air. 

Some  village  Hampden,  that,  with  dauntless  breast, 
the  little  tyrant  of  his  fields  withstood ; 

some  mute,  inglorious  Milton,  here  may  rest; 
some  Cromwell,  guiltless  of  his  country's  blood. 

Th'  applause  of  iist'ning  senates  to  command, 
the  threats  of  pain  and  ruin  to  despise, 

to  scatter  plenty  o'er  a  smiling  land, 
and  read  their  history  in  a  nation's  eye 

their  lot  forbade  :" 

The  heart  of  a  philanthropist,  no  matter  to 
what  country  or  what  form  of  government  he 
may  belong,  immediately  inquires — "  and  is 
there  no  mode   to  prevent  this  melancholy 


BRITISH  SPY.  81 

aste  of  talents  ?  Is  there  no  mode  by  which 
ie  rays  of  science  might  be  so  diffused   over 
be  state,  as  to  call  forth  each  latent  bud  into 
fe  and  luxuriance  ?"  There  is  such  a  mode  ; 
nd  what  renders  the  legislature  of  this  state 
[till   more   inexcusable,   the   plan  by  which 
[hese  important  purposes  might   be  effected 
las  been  drawn  out  and  has  lain  by  them  for 
iiearly  thirty  years.     The  declaration    of  the 
Independence    of    this    commonwealth   was 
nade  in   the  month  of  May,    1,776.     In  the 
all  of  that  year,  a  statute,  or  as  it  is  called 
jere,  "  an  act  of  Assembly"   was  made,  pro- 
dding that  a  committee  of  five  persons  should 
>e  appointed   to   prepare  a  code  of  laws,  a- 
lapted  to  the  change   of  the   state  govern- 
neflt.     This  code  was  to  be  submitted  to  the 
egislature  of  the  country  and  to   be  ratified 
3r  rejected  by  their  suffrage..    In  the  ensuing 
November,  by  a  resolution  of  the  same  legis- 
ature,  Thomas  Jefferson,  Edmund   Pendie- 
on,   George  Wythe,  George    Mason,  and 
Thomas   Ludwell   Lee,   Esquires,  were    ap- 
pointed a  committee  to  execute  the  work  in 
question.     It  was  prepared  by  the  three  first 
named  gentlemen  ;  the  first  of  them,  now  the 
President  of  the  United  States  ;  the  second, 
the  President  of  the  Supreme  Court  of   Ap- 
peals to  Virginia  ;  and  the  third  the  Judge 
of  the  High  Court  of  Chancery,  at  this  place. 
I  have  perused  this   system  of  state   police, 

ith  admiration.     It  is  evidently  the  work  of 
minds  of  most  astonishing  greatness;  capable 


S2  BRITISH  SPY. 

at  once  of  a  grand,  profound  and  comprehe 
sive  survey  of  the  present  and  future  inten 
and  glory  of  the  whole  state;  and  of  pursuii 
that  interest  and  glory  through  all  the  remo 
and  minute  ramifications  of  the  most   exte 
sive  and  elaborate  detail.     Among  other  wi 
and  highly  patriotick  bills  which  are  propo 
ed,  there  is  one,  For  the  more  general  diifu 
ion  of  knowledge.  After  a  preamble,  in  whic 
the  importance  of  the  subject  to  the  republic 
is  most  ably  and  eloquently  announced,  tl 
bill  proposes  a  simple  and  beautiful   scheme 
whereby  science  (like  justice  under  the  inst 
tutions  of  our  Alfred)  <c  would  have  been  cai 
-ried  to  every  man's   door."     Genius  instea 
of  having  to  break  its  way  through  the  thic 
opposing  clouds  of  native  obscurity, indigene 
and  ignorance,  was  to  be  sought  for  throng, 
every  family   in    the    commonwealth  ;   th 
sacred  spark,  wherever  it  was   detected,  wa 
to  be  tenderly  cherished,  and  fanned   into  ; 
Jlame  ;  its  innate  properties   and   tendencie 
were  to  be   developed  and  examined,  anc 
then  cautiously  and  judiciously  invested  wit! 
all   the  auxiliary   energy   and   radiance    01 
which  their  character  was  susceptible.  What 
a  plan  was  here  to  give  stability  and  solid  glo- 
ry to  the  republick  !  If  you  ask   me   why  it 
has  never  been  adopted,  I  answer  that,    as  a 
foreigner,  I  can   perceive  no  possible  reason 
for  it,  except  that  the   comprehensive  views 
and  generous  patriotism  which  produced  the 
bill,  have  not  prevailed  throughout  the  coun- 


BRITISH  SPY.  S3 

i  ,  nor  presided  in  the  body  on  whose  vote 
r  adoption  of  that  bill  depended.     I  have 
til  v  reason  to  remark   it,  almost  every  day, 
M  ,t  there  is  throughout  Virginia  a  most  de- 
rable  destitution  of  publick  spirit  of  the  no- 
pride  and  love  of  country.     Unless   the 
iv  of  the  people  can   be  awakened  from 
s  fatal  apathy  ;   unless  their  thoughts,  and 
ir  feelings  can  be  urged  beyond   the  nar- 
v  confidence  of  their  own    private  affairs; 
less  they  can  be  strongly  inspired  with  the 
blick  zeal,  the  amor  patriae  of  thp  ancient 
)ublick,   the   national   embellishment  and 
3  national  grandeur  of  this  opulent   state, 
ist  be  reserved  for  very  distant  ages. 
(Adieu   my  S*******  ;  perhaps   you    will 
jar  from  jne  again,  before    I  leave   Rich- 
•dL 


************** 


LETTER  *& 


BRITISH    SPY. 


LETTER    X. 


5ICKMCXD,  DECEMBER   10. 

IN  one  of  my  late  rides  into  the  surroun 
ing  country,  I   stopped   at  a  little  inn,  to  r 
fresh  myself  and  horse  ;  and  as  the  landloi 
was  neither  a  Boniface  nor  "  mine  host  of  tf 
garter,".  I  called   for  a  book,    by  way  of  ki 
ling  time,  while  the  preparations  for  myri 
past  were  going  forward.     He  brought  rr 
a  shattered  fragment  of  the   second  volutin 
of  the  Spectator,  which  he   told  me  was  th 
only  book  in  the  house,  for  " he  never  troul 
led  his  head   about  reading  ;"  and  by   th 
way  of  couciusive  proof,  he  farther  informe 
rne,  that  this  fragment,  the  only  book  in  th 
house,  had  been  sleeping,  unmolested,  in  th 
dust  of  his   mantle-piece   for  ten   or   fiftee 
years.     I  could  not  meet  my  venerable  coun 
tryrnan  in  a  foreign  land,  and  in  this  humili 
ating  plight,  nor  hear  of  the   inhuman   an< 
gothick  contempt  with  which   he  had  beei 
treated,  without  the  liveliest  emotion.     So  1 
read  my   host   a  lecture   on  the  subject ;  t( 
which  he  appeared  to  pay  as  little   attentior 
as  he  had  before  done  to  the  Spectator   anc 


BRITISH  SPY.  8.S 

rith  the  sangfroid  of  a  Dutchman,  answer- 
ed mc,  in  the  cant  of  the  country,  that  he 
'  had  other  fish  to  fry,"  and  left  me. 

It  had  been  so  long*,  since  I  had  an  oppor- 
unity  of  opening  that  agreeable  collection, 
hat  the  few  numbers  now  left  before  me, 
ippeared  entirely  new  ;  and  I  cannot  des- 
cribe to  you  the  avidity  and  delight  with 
which  I  devoured  those  beautiful  and  inter- 
esting speculations.  Is  it  not  strange,  my 
dear  S*******,  that  such  a  work  should 
have  ever  lost  an  inch  of  ground  ?  A  style 
so  sweet  and  simple  ;  and  yet  so  ornament- 
ed !  A  temper  so  benevolent,  so  cheerful,  so 
exhilirating  !  A  body  of  knowledge,  and  of 
original  thought,  so  immense  and  various  ! 
So  strikingly  just,  so  universally  useful  ! 
What  person,  of  any  sex,  temper,  calling, 
or  pursuit,  can  possibly  converse  with  the 
Spectator,  without  being  conscious  of  imme- 
diate improvement  ?  To  the  spleen,  he  is  a 
perpetual  and  never  failing  antidote,  as  he  is 
to  ignorance  and  immorality. — No  matter  for 
the  disposition  of  mind  in  which  you  take 
him  up  ;  you  smile  at  the  wit,  ]augrh  at  the 
drollery,  feel  your  mind  enlightened,  your 
heart  opened,  softened  and  refined,  and  when 
you  lay  him  down  you  are  sure  to  be  in  bet- 
ter humour  both  withyourself  and  every  body 
^jsc.  I  have  never  mentioned  the  subject 
to  a  reader  of  the  Spectator,  who  did  not  ad- 
mit this  to  be  the  invariable  process  :  and  in 
such  a  world  of  misfortunes,   of  cares,  and. 

L 


*u  BRITISH  SPY. 

sorrows,  and  guilt  as  this  is,  what  a  prizi 
would  this  collection  be,  if  it  were  righth 
estimated  !  Were  I  the  sovereign  of  anatioil 
which  spoke  the  English  languageand  wishecl 
my  subjects  cheerful,  virtuous  and  enlighten* l'!'t 
<ed,  I  would  furnish  every  poor  family  in  m\ 
dominions  (and  see  that  the  rich  furnisl 
themselves)  with  a  copy  of  the  Spectator;  anc 
ordain  that  the  parents  or  children  shonlc 
read  four  or  five  numbers,  aloud,  every  night 
in  the  year.  For  one  of  the  peculiar  perfec- 
tions of  the   work   is,   that  while  it  contains 


such  a  mass  of  ancient  and  modern  learning. 


t 


.ho  much  of  profound  wisdom  and  of  beauti- 
ful composition, yet  there  is  scarcely  a  mini 
ber  throughout  the  eight  volumes  which  is 
not  level  to  the  meanest  capacity.  Another 
perfection  is,  that  the  Spectator  will  never 
become  tiresome  td  any  one  whose  taste  and 
whose  her,rt  remain  uncorrupted. 

I  do  not  mean  that  this  author  should  be 
jread  to  the  exclusion  of  others  ; — much  less 
that  he  should  stand  in  the  way  of  the  gener- 
ous pursuit  of  science,  or  interrupt  the  dis- 
charge of  social  or  private  duties.  All  the 
councils  of  the  work  itself  have  a  direct- 
Jv  reverse  tendency.  It  furnishes  a  store  of 
the  clearest  argument  and  of  the  most  amia 
Lie  and  captivating  exhortations,  "  to  raise 
the  genius  and  to  mend  the  heart."  I  regret, 
wlv,  that  such  a  book  should  be  thrown  by, 
and  almost  entirely  forgotten,  while  the 
gilded  blasphemies  of  infidels  and  Ci  noon-tide* 


BRITISH  SPY.  87 

Res*'  of  pernicious  theorists  are  hailed  with 

pturc  and  echoed  around  the  world.  For 
ich,  I  should  be  pleased  to  see  the  Spectator 

iversall'y  substituted  ;  and,  throwing  out 
Fthe  question  its  morality,  its  literary  infor- 
lation,  its  sweetly  contagious  serenity,  and 
*e  pure  and  chaste  beauties  of  its  style  ;  and 
fftisicfering  it  merely  as  a  curiosity,  as  con- 
entering  the  brilliant  sports  of  the  finest 
uster  of  geniuses  that  ever  graced  the  earth, 

surely  deserves  perpetual  attention,  respect 
id  consecration. 

There  is,  methinks,  my  S*******,a  great 
ultin  the  world  as  it  respects  this  subject  ; 

giddy  instability, -a  light  and  fluttering 
mity,  a  prurient  longing  after  novelty,  an 
npatience,  a  disgust,  a  fastidious  (  '  ntempt 
f  every  thing  that  is  old.  You  will  not  lin- 
erstand  me  as  censuring  the  progress  of 
mad  science.  I  am  not  so  infatuated  an 
itiquarian,  nor  so  poor  a  philanthropist  as 
1  seek  to  retard  the  expansion  of  the  human 
ind.     But  I  lament  the  eternal  oblivion  in- 

which  our  old  authors,  those  giants  of  lit— 
rature,  are  permitted  to  sink,  while  the 
orld  stands  open-eyed  and  open-mouthed, 
>  catch  every  modern,  tinseled  abortion,  as 
fells  from  the  press.  In  the  small  circles 
f  America  for  instance,  perhaps  there  is  no 
'ant  of  taste  and  even  zeal  for  letters.  I 
ave  seen  several  gentlemen  who  appear  to 
ave  an  accurate, a  minute  acquaintance  with 
ie  whole   range  of  literature  in  its  present 


SS  BRITISH  SPY. 

state  of  improvement  ;  yet  you  will  be  sm 
prised  to  hear  that  I  have  not  met  with  mor 
than  one  or  two  person;*  in  this  country  wh 
Jiave  ever   read  the   works  of  Bacon  or  c 
Boyle.     They  delight  to  saunter  in  the  uj 
per   story,  sustained  and   adorned   as  it  i: 
with  the  delicate  proportions,  the  foliage  an 
flourishes  of  the  Corinthian  order  ;  but  the 
disdain   to  make  any  acquaintance   or  hoi 
communication  at  all,  with  the  Tuscan  an 
Dorick  plainness  and  strength,  which  base  ant 
support  the  whole  edifice.     As  to  lord  Veru 
lam,    when  he  is  considered   as  the  father  o 
experimental   philosophy  ;  as  the  champioi 
whose   vigour  battered   down    the   idolizec 
chimeras    of  Aristotle,  together  with  all  th< 
appendant  and   immeasurable  webs  of  tl 
brain  woven,  and  hung  upon  them  by  the  i 
genious  dreamers  of  the  schools ;  as  the  he: 
who   not  only   rescued  and   redeemed    tl 
world  from  all  this  darkness,  jargon,  perple 
ity  and   ei  rour  ;  but,   from  the  stores  of  h 
own  great  mind,  poured  a  flood  of  light  u 
on  the  earth,   straitened  the  devious  paths 
science,    and  planned  the   whole    paradise, 
which   we  now  find   so   full    of  fragrance, 
beauty,  and  grandeur — when  he  is  consider- 
ed, I  say,  in  these  points  of  view,  I  am  aston 
ished   that   literary   gentJemen  do  not  court 
his  acquaintance,    if  not  through  reverence, 
at  least  through  curiosity.    The  person,  who 
does,    so   will   find  every  period  filled  with 
pjave,  solid,   golden  bullion  3    that    bullioa 


BRITISH  SPY.  89 

hich  several  much  admired,  posterior  wri- 
ters have  merely  moulded  to  various  forms, 
b:  beaten  into  leaf  and  taught  to  spread  its 
pating  splendours  to  the  sun. 

This  insatiable  palate  for  novelty,  which  I 
|ave  mentioned,  has  had  a  very  striking  ef- 
fect on  the  style  of  modern  productions.  The 
jlain  language  of  easy  conversation  will  no 
Niger  do.  The  writer  who  contends  for 
ime  or  even  truth,  is  obliged  to  consult  the 
signing  taste  of  the  day.  Hence,  too  often, 
1  opposition  to  his  own  judgment,  he  is  led 
)  incumber  his  ideas  with  his  gorgeous  load 
f  ornaments  ;  and  when  he  would  present 
)  the  publick  a  body  of  pure,  substantial  and 
seful  thought,  he  finds  himself  constrained 
p  encrust  and  bury  its  utility  within  a  daz- 
ling  case,  to  convert  a  feast  of  reason  to  a 
oncert  of  sounds  :  a  rich  intellectual '  boon 
lto  a  mere  bouquet  of  variegated  pinks  and 
^lushing  roses.  In  his  turn  he  contributes  to 
stablish  and  spread  wide  the  perversion  of 
he  publick  taste  :  and  thus,  on  a  principle 
esembling  that  of  action  and  re-action,  the 
lutJior  and  the  publick  reciprocate  the  injury  ; 
ust  as,  in  the  licentious  reign  of  Charles  II, 
be  dramatist  and  his  audience  were  to  poi- 
.011  each  others  morals. 

A  history  of  style  would,  indeed,  be  a  cu- 
ious  and  interesting  one :  I  mean  a  philosoph- 
ical, as  well  as  a  chronological  history  : 
•ne  which,  besides  marking  the  gradations, 
Ganges   and  fluctuations   exhibited   m  th$ 


96  BRITISH  SPY. 

style  of  different  ages  and  different  countric I 
should  open  the  regular  or  contingent  caus 
and   fluctuations.     I   should  be  particular 
pleased  to  see  a  learned  and  penetrating  mil 
employed  on  the  questions  whether  the  grai 
ual   adornment   which  we  observe  in  a  n; 
tion's   style,  results  from  the  progress  of  sc 
ence  ?  Or   whether  there  be  an  infancy, 
youth,  and   a  manhood  in  the  tone  of  a  n; 
tion's  feelings  ;  which  rising  in  a  distant  ag( 
like  a  new-born  billow,  rolls  on  through  sue 
cessive  generations,  with  accumulating  heigl 
and  force,  and  bears  along  with  it  the  con 
current  expression   of  those  feelings,   unt 
they  both  swell  and   tower  in  the  sublime- 
and   sometimes   break  into  the  bathos  ?  Th 
historical   facts  as  well  as  the  metaphysica 
consideration  of  the  subject,  perplex  thesi 
questions   extremely  ;  and,  as  Sir  Roger  d< 
Coverly  says,  u  much  may  be  said  on  botl 
sides."     For   the  present,  I  shall  say  nothing 
on  either  ;  except   that  from  some   of  Mr 
Blair's  remarks  it  would  seem  that  neither  01 
those  hypotheses  will  solve  the  phenomenon 
before   us.     If  I  remember  his  opinion  cor 
rectly,  the  most  sublime  style  is  to  be  sought 
in  a   state  of  nature  ;  when  anteriour  to  the 
existence  of  science,  the  scantiness  of  a  lan- 
guage, forces  a  people  to  notice  the  points  of 
resemblance  between  the   great  natural  ob- 
jects with  which  they  are  surrounded,  to  ap- 
ply to  one,   the  terms   which  belong  to  ano- 
ther,  and   thus,   by   compulsion,  to  fall,  at 


;/ 


i 


BRITISH  SPY.  91 

e,  into  simile  and  metaphor,  and  launch 
>  all  the  boldness  of  trope  and  figure.  If 
be  true,  it  would  seem  that  the  progress 
civilized  nation  towards  sublimity  of 
e  is  perfectly  a  retrograde  manoeuvre  ; 
t  is,  that  they  will  be  sublime  according 
he  nearness  of  their  approach  to  the  pri- 
vai  state  of  nature.  This  is  curious  and 
ne ;  a  bewitching  subject.  But  it  leads 
volume  of  thought  which  is  not  to 
condensed  into  a  letter.  I  will  remark 
[  one  extraordinary  fact  as  it  relates  to 
e.  The  Augustan  age  is  pronounced  by 
e  criticks  to  have  furnished  the  finest  mod- 
of  stvle  embellished  to  the  highest  endur- 
point ;  and  of  this,  Cicero,  is  always  ad- 
:ed  as  the  most  illustrious  example.  Yet  it 
2markable,that  seventy  or  eighty  years  af- 
Htards,  when  the  Roman  style  had  become 
ch  more  luxuriant  and  was  denounced  by 
criticks  of  the  day*  as  having  transcend- 
the  limits  of  genuine  ornament,  Pliny  the 
mger,  in  a  letter  to  a  friend,  thought  it 
essary  to  enter  into  a  formal  vindication 
hree  or  four  metaphors  which  he  had  used 
m  oration,  and  which  had  been  censured 
Rome  for  their  extravagance  ;  but  which, 
the  side  of  the  meanest  of  Cnrran's  figures, 
uld  be  poor  insipid  and  fiat.  Yet  who 
I  sav  that  Curran's  style  has  gone  bevond 
point  of  endurance  r  Who  is  not  pleased 
h  its  purity  ?  Who  is  not  ravished  by  its 
limit v  ! 


te  BRITISH  SPY. 

In  England,  how  wide  is  the  chasm  1 
tween  the  style  of  Lord  Veriilam  and  that 
Edmund  Burke,  or  M'Intosh's  introduction 
his  Vindicire  Gallicae  !  That  of  the  fir 
the  plain  dress  of  a  quaker  ;  and  that  of  1 
two  last,  the  magnificent  paraphernalia 
Louis  XIV  of  France.  In  Lord  Verula 
day, his  style  was  distinguished  for  its  su[ 
our  ornaments,  and  in  this  respect,  it 
thought  impossible  to  surpass  it.  Yet 
Burke,  Mr.  M'lntosh  and  the  other  fine 
ters  of  the  present  age,  have,  by  contrast, 
duced  Lord  Verulam's  flower  garden 
the  appearance  of  a  simple  culinary  squar 

Perhaps  it  is  for  this  reason,  and  becau 
as  you  know,  I  am  an  epicure,  that  I  am  vc 
much  interested  by  Lord  Verulam's  mann 
It  is  indeed  a  most  agreeable  relief  to 
mind  to  turn  from  the  stately  and  dazzli 
rhapsodies  of  the  day,  and  converse  v 
this  plain  and  sensible  old  gentleman, 
me,  his  style  is  gratifying  on  many  accour 
and  there  is  this  advantage  in  him,  that 
stead  of  having  three  or  four  ideas  rolled  o\ 
and  over  again,  like  the  fantastick  evolutic' 
and  ever  changing  shapes  of  the  sun-embroi 
ered  cloud,  you  gain  new  materials,  new  i 
formation  at  every  breath.  Sir  Robert  B03 
is,  in  my  opinion,  another  author  of  the  sai 
description,  and  therefore  an  equal  if  not 
higher  favourite  with  me.  In  point  of  orr 
Hient  he  is  the  first  grade  in  the  mighty  cha 
(through  the  whole  of  which  the   gradati 


BRITISH  SPY.  S3 

,y  be  distinctly  traced)  between  Bacon  and 
irke.     Yet  he  has  no  redundant  verbiage  ; 
s  about  him  a  perfectly  patriarchal  simpli- 
y,  and  every  period  is  pregnant  with  mat- 
:.     He  has  this  advantage   too  over  Lord 
srulam  ;  that  he  not  only  investigates  all 
e  subjects  which  are  calculated   to  try  the 
3a,rness,  the  force  and   comprehension  of 
e  human  intellect  :  he  introduces  others, 
so,  in  handling  whereof,  he  shews  the  mas- 
rly  powers  with  which  he  could   touch  the 
jys  of  the  heart,  and   awaken  all  the  tones 
sensibility  which  belong   to  man.     Surely 
ever  a  human  being    deserved  to  be  can- 
)nized  for   great,   unclouded   intelligence, 
id  seraphick   purity,   and   ecstacy  of  soul, 
tat  being  was  Sir  Robert  Boyle.     When  I 
iflect  that  this  "  pure  intelligence,  this  link 
stween  men  and  angels,"  was   a   christian, 
id  look  around  upon  the  petty  infidels   and 
eists  with  which    the   world  swarms,  I  am 
>st  in  amazement  !  Have  they   seen   argu- 
lents  against  religion   which  were  not   pre- 
3nted  to  Robert  Boyle  ?  His  religious  works 
hew  that  they  have    not.     Are   their  judg- 
ments better  able  to  weigh  those   arguments 
pan  his  was  ?  They  have  not  the  vanity  even 
b  believe  it.     Is  the  beam  of  their  judgment 
pore  steady,  and  less  liable  to  be  disturbed 
^y  passion    than  his  ?   O  !  no  ;  for   in    this 
le  seems  to  have  excelled  all  mankind.    Are 
heir  minds  more  elevated  and   more  capa- 
M 


n  BRITISH  SPY. 

ble  of  comprehending  the  whole  of  this  grea 
subject  with  all   its  connexions   and   deper 
dencies,  than  was  the  mind  of   Sir  Robert 
Look  at  the   men — and  the  question   is  ar 
swered.     How  then  does  it  happen  that  the  i 
have  been  conducted  to  a  conclusion,  so  per 
fectly  the  reverse  of  his  ;  It  is   for  this    ver 
reason  ;  because  their  judgments  are  less  ex' 
tricated  from  the  influence  and  raised  abov 
the  mists  of  passion  ;  it  is  because  their  mind 
are  less  etherial  and  comprehensive  ;  less  ca 
pable  than  his  was,  *  to  look  through  natur< 
up  to  nature's  God.'  And  let  them  hug.thei 
precious,  barren,  hopeless   infidelity  ;    the^ 
are  welcome  to  the  horrible  embrace  ! — Maj 
we,  my  friend,  never  lose  the  rich  and  inex- 
haustible  comforts  of  religion  !  Adieu  !  nr 


***** 
*** 


BRITISH  SPY.  97 

mis.  These  qualities  render  him  a  safe  and 
>,i  able  counsellor.  And  by  their  constant 
■certion  he  has  amassed  a  store  of  know- 
jdgc  which,  having  passed,  seven  times, 
rough  the  crucible,  is  almost  as  highly  cor- 
seted as  human  knowledge  can  be  ;  and 
hich  certainly,  may  be  much  more  safely 
>lied  on,  than  the  spontaneous  and  luxuri- 
nt  growth  of  a  more  fertile  but  less  chasten- 
d  mind — "  a  wild  where  weeds  and  flowers, 
romiscuous  shoot." 

Having    engaged  very  early,  first  in  the 
ife  of  a  soldier,  then  of  a  statesman,  then  of 
.  laborious  practitioner  of  the  law,  and,  final- 
,  again,  of  a  politician,  his  intellectual  op- 
erations   have  been  almost  entirely  confined 
o  judicial  and  political  topicks.     Indeed    it 
s  easier  to  perceive,  that  the  mind  of  a  man 
engaged  in  so  active  a  life,  must  possess  more 
native  suppleness,  versatility  and  vigour  than 
that  of  Mr.  ******,   to  be  able    to  make  an 
jadvantageous  tour  of  the  sciences  in  the  rare 
(interval  of  importunate  duties.     It  is  possi- 
ble  that  the  early    habit    of   contemplating 
subjects  as  expanded  as  the  earth  itself,  with 
fall  the  relative  interests  of  the  great    nations 
thereof,  may  have  inspired  him   with    an  in- 
difference, perhaps  an  inaptitude  for   m«re 
points  of  literature.  Algernon  Sidney  hassaid 
that  I12  deems  all  studies  unworthy  the  seri- 
ous  regard    of  a    man    except  the  studv  of 
the  principles  of  just  government .  ;  and   Mr. 
******^  perhaps  concurs  with  our  country- 


f>3  BRITISH  SPY. 

man  in  this  as  well  as  in  all  his  other  principl 
Whatever  may  have  been  the  occasion,  l\ 
acquaintance  with  the  fine  arts  is  certain 
very  limited  and  superficial  ;  but  making  2 
lowances  for  his  bias  towards  republicanism 
he  is  a  profound  ant!  even  an  eloquent  state 
man. 

Knowing  him  to  be  attached  to  that  poll 
tical  party,  who,  by  their  opponents,  are  ca 
led  sometimesdemocrats,  sometimes  jacobin 
and  aware  also  that  he  was  a  man  of  wan 
and  even  ardent  temper,  I  dreaded  mucl 
when  I  first  entered  his  company  that  I  shoul 
have  been  shocked  and  disgusted  with  th 
narrow,  virulent  and  rancorous  invectives  c 
party  animosity.  How  agreeably,  how  de 
iightfully  was  I  disappointed  !  Not  one  sen 
tinient  of  intolerance  polluted  his  lips.  O 
the  contrary,  whether  they  are  the  offsprinj 
of  rational  induction,  of  the  habit  of  survey 
ing  men  and  things  on  a  great  scale,  of  na 
tive  magnanimity,  or  of  a  combination  of  ai 
those  causes,  his  principles  as  far  as  the; 
were  expressed  j  were  forbearing,  libera) 
widely  extended  and  great. 

As  the  elevated  ground  which  he  already 
holds  has  b.een  gained  merely  by  the  dint  o 
application  ;  as  every  new  step  which  h( 
mounts,  becomes  a  means  of  increasing  hi; 
powers  still  farther,  by  stimulating  his  enter- 
prize  afresh,  reinvigorating  his  habits,  multi- 
plying the  materials  and  extending  the  range 
of  hiskaowledge,  it  would  be  a  matter  oi 


BRITISH  SPY.  99 

1*3  surprize  to  me,  if  before  his  death,  the 
•'■j  orld  should  see  him  at  the  head  of  the  Amer- 
^  an  administration. — So  much  for  the  *** 
y  (#***  0f  tne  commonwealth  of  Virginia  ; 
^living,  an  honourable,  and  illustrious  mon- 
:^jment  of  self-created  eminence,  worth  and 
reatness  ! — Let  us  now  change  the  scene 
<'nd  lead  forward  a  very  different  character 
;Ci  ideed  :  a  truant,  but  a  highly  favoured  pupil 
tolf  Nature.  It  would  seem  as  if  this  caprici- 
tf  jus  goddess  had  finished  the  two  characters 
w  urely  with  the  view  of  exhibiting  a  vivid 
Jiibntrast.  Nor  is  this  contrast  confined  to 
ijheir  minds. 

i\  The  ♦****  *******  of  the  United  States,* 
dej,  in  his  person,  tall,  meagre,   emaciated; 
lis  muscles  relaxed  and  his  joints  so  loosely 
ftjonnected,  as  not  only  to  disqualify  him  for 
npfiiy  vigorous  exertion  of  body,  but  to  detroy 
:y*|very    thing  like   elegance  and  harmony  in 
is  air  and  movements.     Indeed  in  his  whole 
ppearance,    and    demeanour ;   dress,  atti- 
udes,  gesture  ;  sitting,  standing  or  walking, 
e  is  as  far  removed  from  the  idolized  graces 
If  Lord  Chesterfield,  as  any  other  gentleman 
Id    earth.     To   continue   the   portrait — his 
pead  and  face  are  small  in  proportion  to  his 
[eight  ;  the  muscles  of  his  face,  being  relax- 
|d,  give  him  the  appearance  of  a  man  of  fif- 
ty years  of  age,  nor  can  he  be  much  young- 
r  ;  his  countenance  has  a  faithful  expression 
K  great  good   humour   and  hilarity  ;  while 
'lis  black  eyes,  that  unerring  index — possess 

!  *  Chief  Justice  John  Marshall. 


100  BRITISH  SPY. 

an  irradiating  spirit,  which  proclaims  the  im 
perial  powers  of  the  mind  that  sits  enthrones 
within. 

This  extraordinary  man,  without  the  ai< 
of  fancy,  without  the  advantages  of  person 
voice,  attitude,  or  any  of  the  ornaments  o 
an  orator,  deserves  to  be  considered  as  on< 
of  the  most  eloquent  men  in  the  world  ;  i 
•eloquence  may  be  said  to  consist  in  the  pow 
er  of  seizing  the  attention  writh  irresistibl- 
force,  and  never  permitting  it  to  elude  th 
grasp  until  the  hearer  has  received  the  con 
viction  which  the  speaker  intends.  As  t( 
his  person,  it  has  been  already  described 
His  voice  is  dry  and  hard  ;  his  attitude,  ii 
his  most  effective  orations,  was  often  ex 
-tremely  awkward,  as  it  was  not  unusual  fo 
him  to  stand  with  his  left  foot  in  advance 
while  all  his  gesture  proceeded  from  his  righ 
arm,  and  consisted,  merely  in  a  vehement 
perpendicular  swing  of  it,  from  about  tht 
^elevation  of  his  head,  to  the  bar,  behinc 
which  he  was  accustomed  to  stand.  As  tc 
fancy,  if  she  holds  a  seat  in  his  mind  at  all 
which  I  very  much  doubt,  his  gigantick  ge 
riius  tramples  with  disdain  on  all  her  flower 
deckt    plats  and   blooming    parteres. 

How  then,  you  will  ask,  with  a  look  of  i; 
credulous  curiosity,  how  is   it    possible    th 
such  a  man  can  hold  the  attention  of  an    an 
dience  enchained,  through  a  speech  of  ev 
ordinary  length  ?  I  will  tell  you. 


BRITISH  SPY.  lOi 

He  possesses  one  original  and,  almost,   su- 
srnatural  faculty  :    the  faculty  of  develop- 
g  a  subject  by  a  single  glance  of  his  mind, 
id  detecting  at   once,  the   very   point   on 
hich  every    controversy     depends.        No 
matter,     what    the     question  ;    though  ten 
mes  more  knottv  than  the  "gnarled    oak," 
le  lightning  of  heaven   is   not  more  rapid 
or  more  resistless,  than  his  astonishing  pene- 
ration.     Nor  does  the  exercise  of  it  seem  to 
ost  him  an  effort.     On  the  contrary  it   is  as 
asy  as  vision.     I  am  persuaded  that  his  eyes 
o  not  fly  over  a  landscape,  and    take   in  its 
arious  objects  with  more   promptitude  and 
'acihty,  than  his  mind   embraces    and    ana- 
yzes  the  most  complex  subject.     Possessing 
his  intellectual  elevation  which  enables  hirn 
:o  look  down    and    comprehend   the   whole 
ground  at  once,  he  determines   immediately 
and  without  diffieulity,    on   which    side   the 
question  may  be    most   advantageously    ap- 
proached and  assailed.     In  a  bad  eause,    his 
art  consists  in  laving  his  premises  so  remotely 
from  the  point  directly  in  debate,  or  else  in 
terms  so  general   and    so   specious   that  the 
hearer,  seeing  no  consequence  which  can  be 
drawn  from  them,  is  just  as  willing  to   admit 
them,  as  not  ;  but,    his    premises   once    ad- 
mitted, the  demonstration,  however   distant, 
follows  as  certainly,  as  cogently,  as   inevita- 
bly, as  any   demonstration    in   Euclid.     All 
his  eloquence  consists  in  the  apparently  deep 
lelf-conviction  and  emphatick  earnestness  of 


102  BRITISH  SPY, 

his    manner  ;    the  correspondent  simplici 
and  energy  of  his  style  ;  the  close  and  log 
cal  connection  of  his  thoughts  ;  and  the  eas 
gradations  by   which   she   opens  his  sight  j 
the  attentive  minds  of  his  hearers.       The  a 
dience  are   never   permitted   to   pause  for 
moment.     There  is   no   stopping   to   weav* 
garlands  of  flowers,  to   hang     in  festoons 
around  a  favourite   argument.      On  the  con 
trary,  every  sentence   is  progressive — even 
idea  sheds  new  light  on  the  subject — the  li 
tener    is   kept  perpetually  in  that   sweeth 
pleasurable   vibration,   with  which  the  mine 
of  man  always  receives  new  truths — the  dawr 
advances  in  easy  but  unremitting  pace — the 
subject  opens  gradually  on   the  view — until, 
rising,  in  high  relief,  in  all  its  native   colours 
and  proportions,  the  argument  is  consummat- 
ed by  the  conviction  of  the  delighted  hearer, 
The  success  of  this  gentleman  has  render- 
ed it  doubtful  with  several  literary  characters 
in  this  country,  whether  a  high  fancy  be   of 
real  use  or  advantage  to  any  one  but  a  poet. 
They   contend,     that    although    the     most 
beautiful  flights  of  the  happiest  fancy,  inter- 
spersed through   an   argument,  may  give  an 
audience  the  momentary,   delightful  swell  of 
admiration,  the  transient  thrill  of  the  divinesti 
rapture  ;  yet  that  they  produce  no  lasting  ef- 
fect in   forwarding  the  purpose  of  the  speak 
er  :  On  the  contrary  that  they  break  the  ur " 
ty  and   disperse   the  force  of  an  argument 
which  otherwise  advancing   in  close  array. 


^e  the  phalanx  of  Sparta,  would  carry  every 
ing  before  it.     They  give  an   instance   in 
ie  celebrated  Curran  ;  and  pretend  that  his 
he  fancy,  although   it   fires,    dissolves  and 
/en  transports  his  audience  to  a  momentary 
enzy,  is  a  real  and  a  fatal  misfortune  to  his 
ients  ;  as  it  calls  off  the  attention  of  the  ju- 
rs  from  the  intrinsick  and   essential  merits 
the  defence  ;  eclipses  the  justice  of  the  cli- 
it's  cause  ill  the  blaze  of  the  advocate's  tal- 
its  ;  induces  a  suspicion  of  the  guilt,  which 
squires    such    a  glorious    display    of    re- 
sidence to  divert  the  inquiry  ;    and   substi- 
nes  a  fruitless    shortlived   extacy,  in  the 
ilace  of  permanent  and  substantial   convic- 
'on.     Hence,  they  say,  that   the  client   of 
Ir.  Curran  is  invariably   the   victim  of  the 
rosecution  which  that  able  and  eloquent  ad- 
ocate  is  employed  to  resist.     The  doctrine, 
1  the  abstract,  may  be  true,   or,  as   Doctor 
^oubty  says,  it  may  not  be   true  ;  for  the 
resent,  I  will  not  trouble  you  with   the  ex- 
pression of  my   opinion.     I  fear,  however 
ly  dear  S*******,  that  Mr.  Currans's   fail- 
res,  may  be  traced  to  a  cause  very  different 
'om  any  fault,  either  in  the  style  or  exec u- 
on  of  his  enchanting  defences  :  a  caused — — 
ut  I  am  forgetting  that  this   letter  has   yet 
p  cross  the  Atlantic!*.* 
^ "'•  ■■      +-■■■'     ■       ■* "  .'        y '    "  •-!.   ,  ■■-•' 

*  The  sentiment  which  is  suppressed,   seems    to   wear 
ie  livery  of  Bedford,  Moira  and  tke  Prince 'of  Wales* 

° 


104?  BitlTISH  SPY, 

To  return  to  the  *****  *******  0f  tfo, 
United  States.  His  political  adversaries  al 
ledge  that  he  is  a  mere  lawyer  ;  that  hi 
mind  has  been  so  long  trammelled  by  judicia 
precedent,  so  long  habituated  to  the  quail 
and  tierce  of  forensick  digladiation  (as  Doct 
Johnson  would  probably  have  called  it)  as  tc 
be  unequal  to  the  discussion  of  a  great  ques- 
tion of  state.  Mr.  Curran  in  his  defence  oj 
Rowan,  seems  to  have  sanctioned  the  proba- 
bility of  such  an  effect  from  such  a  causej 
when  he  complains  of  his  own  mind  as  havjl 
ing  been  narrowed  and  circumscribed  by  a 
strict  and  technical  adherence  to  established 
forms  ;  but  in  the  next  breath,  an  astonisty 
ing  burst  of  the  grandest  thought  and 
power  of  comprehension  to  which  there 
seems  to  be  no  earthly  limit,  proves  that  his 
complaint,  as  it  relates  to  himself,  is  entirely 
without  foundation.  Indeed,  if  the  object 
tion  to  the  *****  *******  mean  any  thing 
more,  than  that  he  has  not  had  the  same  illu- 
mination and  exercise  in  matters  of  state  as 
if  he  had  devoted  his  life  to  them,  I  am  un- 
willing to  admit  it.  The  force  of  a  cannon 
is  the  same,  whether  pointed  at  a  rampart  or 
a  man  of  war,  although  practice  may  have 
made  the  engineer  more  expert  in  the  one 
case  than  in  the  other.  So  it  is  clear  that 
practice  may  give  a  man  a  greater  command 
over  one  class  of  subjects  than  another  ;  but 
the  inherent  energy  of  his  mind  remains  the 


BRITISH  SPY,  }ftj 

me,  whithersoever  it  may  be  directed.  From 
lis  impression,  I  have  never  seen  any  cause 
wonder  at  what  is  called  an  universal 
nius  ;  it  proves  only  that  the  man  has  ap- 
ied  a  powerful  mind  to  the  consideration 
'  a  great  variety  of  subjects,  and  pays  a 
Dinpliment  rather  to  his  superiour  intellect. 
am  very  certain  that  the  gentleman  of 
horn  we  are  speaking  possesses  acumen 
hich  might  constitute  him  an  universal 
enius,  according  to  the  usual  acceptation  of 
le  phrase.  But  if  he  be  the  truant  which 
is  warmest  friends  represent  him  to  be, 
lere  is  very  little  probability  that  he  will 
ver  reach  this  distinction. 

Think  you  my  dear  S*******,  that  th& 
wo  gentlemen  whom  I   have  attempted  ta 
ourtray  to  you,  were,  according  to  the  no- 
on of  Helvetius,  born  with  equal  minds. and 
lat  accident  or   education   have   produced 
e  striking  difference  which  we    perceive  to. 
fcxist  between  them  ?  I  wish  it  were  the  case  ; 
nd  that  the  *****  *******  wpuId  be  pleas-, 
id  to  reveal  to  us  by  what  accident  or    what 
system  of  education  he  has  acquired  his  pe- 
culiar sagacity  and  promptitude.     Until  this 
hall  be  done,  I  fear  I  must  consider  the  by- 
)othesis  of  Helvetius  as  a  splendid  and  flat- 
tering dream.      But   I  tire  you: — adieu,  for 
the  prescnt;  friend  and  guardian  of  my  youth- 

F  I  2S  I  S, 


K 

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Hi 

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Hi 

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MaB 

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Hi 

BBBwE 

V  iui 

Io9 

H9I 

